Let me state here and now – I do like Christmas – love it actually, but I seriously think that you take your life in your own hands at this time of the year.
One thing is for sure…I will NOT be attempting to go to Asda between now and then. Those of you who have been with me on this blog for a year (brave little soldiers), will remember that last year I told you how I buggered up my no-claims bonus, a few days before Christmas, two years ago, by reversing out of a parking bay in Asda’s car park and straight into a woman’s car? I say woman, actually she was a girl.
At the time I was waiting for my inguinal hernia op and I was in considerable pain as I climbed into my Volvo people carrier. But far worse than the pain in my groin – was the pain in my heart. We’d had our nineteen-year old cat, Mishka, put to sleep the previous day and as I sat in the car feeling sorry for myself, with all this combined groin pain and heartache, I burst into tears. I am an emotional person…but not in public…and not in supermarket car parks.
Five minutes later I wiped away the tears and nose leakage, checked my rear-view mirror and reversed out – straight into a black car. It truly had not been there when I’d started the manoeuvre. The car had materialised out of thin air like bloody Captain Kirk’s Enterprise. I couldn’t find a tissue and the tears had started again as the other driver stepped out of her car.
She gingerly approached me, saw the blotchy, distorted, sobbing face and threw her arms around me. Wasn’t much impressed with that. I didn’t even know this person. Just because you prang someone’s car it doesn’t make you hugging buddies, does it?
‘Aww, it’s alright,’ she said, dragging out a tatty tissue from her coat pocket. ‘You haven’t done much damage. Please don’t cry.’
I think my lip curled, but I can’t be sure, because as I said, I was totally distraught.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘Please don’t cry over a smashed bumper.’
A smashed bumper? Cry over a smashed bumper? Me? What kind of ninny did she take me for?
‘I’m not crying over that…’ I sobbed brokenly, nodding at her heap of a car. ‘I had to …have …my cat… put to sleep yesterday…and she was… nineteen?’ (Loud sobs and serious facial leakage)
‘Aww,’ she said.
Obviously, her compassion ebbed faster than the turning tide as she busied herself on her mobile taking pictures of the damage. Thank God she’d had the foresight to charge the bugger! I would have hated for the battery to die at the crucial moment of logging the evidence!
I drove home in total silence, bottom lip on my knees, ready to face Richard who was not going to be impressed that I’d scratched his precious Volvo. I’ve always believed that the best form of defence is attack and so as I arrived home and met a smiling Richard, ( that smile wasn’t going to last), I snottily said, ‘I’ve had an accident in the car and I don’t care!’
His smile hung around for two seconds and then, seeing that I still had both arms, legs and my stroppy attitude, he dashed off to examine the damage.
As I said, we lost our no-claims bonus after that. No point arguing when half of Asda’s shoppers had seen me – distraught and half blinded by tears – smashing into some poor child’s pride and joy. They were hardly likely to come out on the side of the emotional div in the big posh car, were they? No. I know when I’m beaten.
Richard purchased a back light thingy from eBay for £4.99 and I swore NEVER to visit Asda again on the run-up to Christmas. Oh, and Richard finally agreed that we didn’t need a car the size of a small elephant, especially one that I obviously couldn’t reverse out of a parking bay without colliding with a spaceship. We part-chopped it for the VW UP which ticks all the required boxes. I’m still not going to Asda though.
I KNOW for a fact that there are more idiots on the road at this time of the year. I think they must have their concentration on their shopping agenda and not on the road? Yes, I know, how can I say this when it was me who reversed into her? But I’m telling you, when I started my manoeuvre The Enterprise wasn’t even in our Universe.
I blame it all on Mishka…bless her sweet, darling heart.
Take care my lovelies x