The doors opened, i stepped on and sit on the far beyond backseat that someone can find in a mini bus. After a hard-day at work (where nothing worked, from network-access, project-organisation and until the coffee machine) and a flute lesson (that i really enjoyed), i was totally tired and i thought that the best thing i could do is to hide on the back seat of the mini bus...
All started that morning where as i was late for work with NO coffee. I had to get through a terrible traffic-jam, park my car on the sidewalk (well half on the sidewalk), like everyone in this city who calls himself a driver does all the time, and rush myself into the metro to get to the NO-coffee-machine place...
Back in the mini bus, after 10 min of travelling threw the chaotic and incredibly noisy city of Athens (what morte must happen to this place with all these cars, eeeehh?? And they still bying them. Athens is the only city of the world where every family member has a car and every family lives in houses with 50 more families - trust me is like that - ) i thought about the ticket i bought earlier.... Did i put it on the small machine near the bus-door?? Hey, where is the f***** ticket? I put my hand in my pocket and took out the ticket. It looked excactly the same as the poor man on the desk sold it to me, no strange numbers on it, no mechanical letters, no nothing! Well yes, after a hard day work you may excuse yourself for things like that, is not such a big deal what so ever.
I saw where i was and, guess what, on the next stop i had to get down. So i staid cool. Put the ticket back on my pocket and waited in the mind-looping traffic-jam for the next stop to come.
The guy stand before me, i didn't have to wait to hear it from his mouth, although his words cut me like a little knife. "Your tickets please"... So i gave my 30 euros (to the good hided God of the Law) and got out in the next stop. I had not seeing one of this kind of a person in the bus checking my ticket for a very very long time (i think 5 years or so) and that of course made me think once again on Murphys Laws. The guy had right.
As i rushed into the metro, i tried to think the possibility once more. No... It can't be measured.
But you know how it is, if a day starts bad it ends up worst. The police-bill on my car-window was about parking on the half sidewalk, like everyone who calls himself a driver in this city does all the time, and that of course made me redesign my thoughts at 21.00 pm: Murphy has not predicted all the possibilities too. Hey! It can't be really worst than that...