One of Those Days

TUE: 16/12/2008
Hokey-dokey, my bullshit white van won’t start, so I goes and deposits ten pounds at the nearest garage for a set of jump leads. Pack ya bags Peter the Travelodge manager kindly agrees to give me a jump with the hotel van, but we can’t find the bonnet-release switch for a damn good twenty minutes. Then we can’t even gain access to the battery once the damn thing finally opens, so he uses his wife Debbie’s car instead. I am away to sunny Widnes and relatively honky dory until I run out of diesel. Blast! I gets out and starts pushing. Another white van man helps me. Gotta stick together, haven’t we? Mercifully, there is a cul de sac closeby and a garage on the other side of the dual carriageway. I darts across and am forced to buy an overpriced petrol can. Wotta rip! I puts £2.50 diesel in, returns, and puts it in the van. Has the battery recharged yet? Well, even if it has, the van won’t start because I haven’t put enough diesel in, or so my dad explains on the dog n bone anyways.

So I pops over to the garage again, sprinting across in front of the lollipop lady and setting a terrible example to the kids (it’s home time). The vehicle still doesn’t start though so I opens the bonnet and attaches the jump leads before waiting against the side of the van hoping someone will stop and offer assistance without me even having to ask. I’m not about to go flagging cars down, no way, forget about it. The overall effect I achieve is the serial schoolgirl killer look, like I’m plotting to drag someone in. Anyhows, I am right opposite a library so I asks in there. A woman comes out in her car but for some reason my van won’t jump. Another woman comes out in her van and this time both our batteries explode when I attaches the leads. Woman 1 has really sexy thick lipstick on and Woman 2 is so blissfully naïve with her willingness to help out I can imagine her not even calling the police if some nasty yob burglar trashes her house, but rather clean up the mess with a dustpan and brush with a smile on her face saying, ‘Not too worry, we’re insured.’ I calls it off I do, and says I’d feel too guilty if I blows her van as well as mine. Even though Woman 2’s car starts again (only just), she is still willing to try again. My Dad would help but he’s stuck beside his own van while it gets a new windshield fitted (some nut with a vendetta written his car off and done his van in at the weekend, so I starts jogging back, and realises, when I eventually gets in, that I’ve gone and left the door key to my room in the van).

So I can’t even gets back in when I'm starving and tired. I need Debbie, Travelodge staff member, to open my door for me. But guess what? She can’t. Guess why? Because she is locked in the office. Listen to this......the door handle had fallen off. I put my mouth against the crack and told her I thought I was having a bad day! Imagine being held up for something important because a goddamned door handle falls off? A team of comedy writers couldn’t make that one up, could they? She had to be rescued from the window.