Take a long look at the above accurate photo fit, it may save your life, for this is Mr K.Nobhead, you have probably seen him in many car parks over the years, currently he is in Mansfield dicking around.
What’s got my gander this morning? Nothing much apart from being rammed in the testicles in a slow version of hit and run.
I suppose an explanation is required, it’s quite simple and one of the first rules of driving. Don’t hit the people.
Yesterday was a very strange day, after the wonderful five hour packed gallery appearance on Saturday, Sunday was the ying to the yang, the balancing factor that brings you back with a bump. It all started off quite gently with a trip to replace an ageing Freeview box that had decided to not play ball with the absolute minute amount of television programs we wish to watch (approximately three currently and no, it doesn’t include X-Factor or indeed anything to do with dancing, skating, shouting, crying or showing off).
Most of the retail outlets around us have gone out of business, we no longer have a Staples, Comet, Currys and numerous other places so have to venture into PC World for most of our electricals, either that or buy them online. The first signs that it was going to be a payback day began when we waited in a queue of cars to turn right into the carpark from the main road. A very busy road I hasten to add so why on earth did a car behind us decide that they would not wait any longer and drive head first into oncoming traffic to get to the front of the queue. I’m not playing this down either, they really did drive at oncoming traffic who panicked at the car speeding towards them. Several cars swerved and two stopped hitting their horns simultaneously. Well, that was it, it was like every man for themselves. We sat in disbelief as car after car took the same route jumping the queue and completely stopping the oncoming traffic with their selfish need to shop. It was mayhem.
Anyway, we waited and pulled into the carpark the correct way and gave everyone special Paddington stares but they seemed oblivious that they had just a) Done something illegal and dangerous and b) That it was incredibly selfish and c) They were a dick.
Inside we found everything we didn’t want and nothing we did, after having a panic attack in the television area when a young child decided to whack up the sound on the biggest television to just below 158 decibels and a fight broke out around the kettles we left. Even the staff told us to go to Maplins but I don’t know if that was advice or they just didn’t like the look of us, either way we managed to set off the door alarm on the way out for some reason and a whole new episode started before we reached the car to find it covered in a torrent of white from a rather ill bird that had managed to hit the roof, side, boot, bonnet and the door handle I use. Opening a car door with a tissue whilst retching is not something I would recommend.
Let’s jump an hour ahead and to the car park in Tesco’s. We had done a little shopping and wheeled the trolley back to the car. I had reversed in, it was quite clear when we arrived but returning I found the car surrounded. Luckily though there was no car next to us so it was quite easy to reach the boot to unload the trolley.
So imagine my surprise when a car decided to drive past, look at me with the trolley and think, ‘you know, I think I will reverse in and trap that idiot, I may even clip him in the process.’ (See diagram above, I’m the pathetic stick figure about to get squished)
I yelled, tried to move out of the way but all the gaps were too small. I waved my arms and started to shout until the corner of his car hit me in my nick nacks. You would have thought the sound of gently squashed gonads would have stopped him but oh, no, he wanted to make sure that trolley was trapped too. I had images of abandoning it and losing my pound which made me very sad.
What an idiot. Unbelievable. Then he stopped, got out, looked at me like one would at something unpleasant on your shoe and walked off.
‘You’ve just hit me you idiot! I can’t get the trolley out!’ I shouted, it was no use though, this middle aged arse decided he had better things to do at the cash machine and completely ignored me the wretch. I kicked his tyre and tried to figure out what to do next and how to release the trolley. There was only one thing for it, pull my car out a little. I edged the car out, jumped out still holding my soft bits and watched a shopper wheel my trolley away complete with pound coin.
‘That’s my trolley!’ I shouted to the back of rapidly escaping trolley thief. Honk! Honk! Came from a car behind me, my car was blocking the road! Oh no! It’s all going wrong!
I loved that pound coin.
And that dear blog reader was the beginning of my Sunday, five hours of miserable madness to balance out the five hours of fun the day before. Needless to say I won’t mention the three teenage girls that decided to run across a road of speeding traffic at a major junction, neither will I mention the family that stood either side of me in Argos to have a discussion about fish fingers and baby poo. Quite rightly I will also gloss over the incident in Maplins where we appeared to be invisible to other members of the public as I held a miniature pool table (don’t ask why) and getting thumped by a small remote controlled robot.
All I can say is that balance is restored and I’m never going out again.
On a brighter note, a few weeks ago I blogged about the third (rare) tornado to hit the area, well joy of joys we have another ‘rare’ event tomorrow with the back end of a hurricane so if you see my fly by your window please give me a little wave to see me on my way.
I need it.