The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

I had been invited to be a speaker at a conference in a place called Wrocław. It
was in the south east of Poland close to the Czech boarder. It was a conference
on accountancy standards and the guys I was teaching had recommended me. I
was going to give a forty five minute speech, well, presentation on how to
present your findings in English.
I was excited as it was the first such event I’d ever been invited to and I saw it
as an opportunity to spread my wings. I wasn’t only going to be a teacher, now I
was a speaker, a consultant. The only problem was that I’d have to drive there. I
could have gotten the train, I should have gotten the train but I didn’t.
I planned out my journey and knew that once I got out of Warsaw I had to get
onto Route 8 or a road called the E67. It sounded like and artificial ingredient
listed on a pack of gummy bears. The estimated time of the drive was six hours
for about three hundred and fifty kilometres. That was about 60 kmph or about
40 mph for the journey. I never found out though.
Before I even hit the artificial flavourings highway I got a call saying the whole
thing was cancelled due to insufficient ticket sales.
I couldn’t believe that they had left it so late to tell me. I was sure that they
knew the ticket sales had sucked for weeks but it was more the thought of being
just a teacher again that depressed the fuck out of me.
I made my way back to Elly a sad but competent driver on the Polish roads.