Mixed-up stories. Nightmare journeys.

Date: 2015-10-07; view: 762.

Here are two mixed-up stories called “The Wedding” and “The Interview”. Get them separate and give a short summary of each one.

After a few agonizing minutes of indecision I decided to abandon the car and take a taxi. But even the taxi took ages to get there because there was a terrible traffic jam. I eventually arrived, ten minutes late, hot, sweaty and really stressed. When I walked into the manager's office, the first thing she asked me was, 'Did you have a good journey?' 'Oh, yes,' I said. 'It was fine. 'But at least the story has a happy ending, because I got the job!

Finally, with my car repaired, I reached the village at two o'clock in the afternoon, but the wedding had already finished. My friend was furious because I'd missed one of the most important moments in his life. 'Why don't you buy a normal car,' he said, 'which doesn't always break down when you really need it?'

I started to change the wheel myself, but I was wearing a very tight white skirt and jacket and was afraid of getting dirty. Time was running out, and I knew that being late for the interview would be disastrous. They might not even believe what had really happened.

But when I arrived at the first crossroads, I took the wrong turning and I soon found myself completely lost. The engine was beginning to get very hot and suddenly black smoke began coming out. Five minutes later the car broke down. In my elegant suit I began walking towards the nearest village to find a mechanic. Luckily, a passing car stopped and gave me a lift to the garage.

The worst journey I've ever had was three years ago when I was going to my friend's wedding at a small village in Scotland. I was the best man so it was very important for me to arrive early.

First of all, I saw that I'd almost run out of petrol, and had to stop at a garage. Then, as I was driving towards the centre, another car hooted at me and I realized that I had a puncture. I couldn't believe it!

My nightmare journey happened last year. I'd been unemployed for about six months but I had just been called for an interview for a job. The interview was at 4.15 in the centre of town. But as soon as I got into the car, everything started to go wrong.

The ceremony was at 1 p.m., but my car, an old sports car which I loved, was eighteen years old and sometimes used to break down. Although it was only an hour's journey from my home in Aberdeen, I'd decided to set off at 11.00 in the morning.