She says.....Blackout, Sandstorm and GummyBear

Scene: 830pm, sandstorm raging outside, bedroom cinema lit by lamps, The Blacklist screening on the bedroom wall, she with craft in hand, he winding down from a busy week, grateful for an evening at home. 

Power black out. 

They redress and traipse down to flick the 15 different knobs to activate the generator...but notice on route that the building electricity is still on. 

Returning to apartment they discover their own electricity has run out. Frustration at each other simmers, for not noticing the meter was low. With flash-lit heads, they return to the bedroom to hunt down the spare power voucher. 20mins later, they have not found the safe place it had been stored. 

Emergency call to a friend revealed that they could purchase a voucher 24/7 from a company 10mins away. 

Attempt #1

Meter # recorded on paper, they redress appropriately, by flashlight, and brave the sandstorm. Feeling slightly happy that the power office is next to an icecream store, they began to consider the flavour options. On arrival at the office, after avoiding multiple collisions with vehicles, people and donkeys, she is asked for the meter #. Neither she, nor he had brought it. 

Storming out of the office, they return home by car, with decreasing visibility. Gate unlocked, two flights of stairs, empty water bottles grabbed for exchange, meter # obtained, they depart once again for the power office.

Attempt #2 

On arrival at the office, all vehicles, animals and people intact, she joins the queue with the other 20 people purchasing power in a sandstorm on the last night of the working week(!). The attendant informs her that the meter # is a digit short. She begs said-attendant to try all other numbers before and after but the attendant refuses. She storms out to the car, she makes him return to a different counter to try another number. The attendant is suitably helpful, but to avail. 

They return home in loud silence. Correct meter # recorded, they return to the car, wishing they were driving a tank to brave the sandstorm and traffic. 

Attempt #3

Following another loud, silent drive, she enters the office and stands politely in line behind a man being served. Enter woman (hereafter known as GummyBear) from her left, moving as rapidly as locals only do when driving, and moves in front of her. She exclaims (loudly) in Siberian that GummyBear, as lovely as she is, needs to wait her turn. Ignoring the advice, GummyBear pushes the man being served out of the way, shoved her iPhone, $ and meter # on the counter. The man being served collects his things and leaves. She repeats her indignant exclamation and the attendant agrees and ignores GummyBear. GummyBear is in front of the 10cm X 10cm window and the attendant can't hear her saying the meter #, so she asks GummyBear to move. GummyBear moves 1cm to the left and then shoves her with her hip! She yells again (politely) and GummyBear looks straight at her and grins a gummy, toothless smile. One of the few times in her life when she has wanted to slap a woman. She pushes GummyBear out of the window and re-submits the meter #. GummyBear immediately reclaims her territory. 

The attendant and his boss look suitably sympathetic, they yell at her through the barrier (because the window is stuffed full of GummyBear) and tell her she needs an extra 125 Siberian pounds to pay 5mths water rates too. Of course, she only has an extra 100 on her. 

Heavy footed stomping, holding back tears to the car, she requests more $ from him and tells him he'd best be prepared for violence in the office. As she turns around, the manager walks out of the building with the power and water tickets and thrusts them at her with an apology and instructions for how to enter the details. Trying to pay the remaining cost (approx AUD2), the manager insists it has been paid. 

On the third, loud, silent drive home, after conspicuously avoiding entering the icecream store, she sends her Mother an abbreviated version of the evening’s events. Mother suggests a glass of the precious red stuff that they have for an emergency occasion. She suggests she'd be more likely to whack the bottle over his head than drink it…..he says (in the light of a new day, in a powered-home), that would be a terrible waste of a good red.