Staving off Christmas
I had visions of a lovely festive shopping trip – escaping the lashing sleet; parking early at John Lewis; sending thoughtful purchases for friends and relatives down to customer collection; taking myself for an overpriced scone and butter, and then heading home all set for a Christmassy night out with the children.
I got about one minute out of the village when a scary warning light started to flash on the dash display thing, so I came off the main road and called the AA.
It wasn’t a good warning light to be flashing, the man assured me. Either I had a leak of water, a leak of coolant or both.
After further investigation it transpired that I had neither leak – which was a good thing – but the car was delusional and thought it had leaks, and so was compensating for a lack of coolant or water – or both, in fact – and having a wee moment to itself. It’s all confused and upset by the weather, or something…
So, Christmas shopping: postponed…
Skipping a lot of details, later that night I arrive at the theatre (in a borrowed car) with my children to go and see a pantomime. I was wandering vacantly in the bar area, looking at the “art” for sale on the walls, thinking ‘I-can-do-that’, having sent the kids off to see what they could get out of the machine in the way of chocolate. They bounded into the bar and I sat down on the green bench, ready to receive whatever Minstrels they were going to give me.
The green bench, however, wasn’t there! It was, well, more of a SPACE between two green benches…
Down I smacked on my back, feet to the air, managing to crush my hand in a kind of defying-the-laws-of-nature-way. I raised my hand quivering before me – in the style of Marty McFly in the first Back to the Future movie, when he has pretty much erased himself from existence – and it was all kind of … pale, backwards and flat… and making me feel kind of sick…
When I realised that no one but the children had seen me, I shook myself off, took myself to the bar, ordered myself a water – and plunged my hand into the pint glass and tried not to vomit or pass out.
Eventually I traded in the pint glass for an actual ice-pack and spent the panto chillin’.
So saying, today it is not too bad- nothing broken. I can still type, clearly – although I am giving the violin a rest for a week.
So, much as I despise narrative and much as I object to moaners in the face of reality with its actual problems – that was my fail-day this week.
I got my car back today also. It was all thingmy again. Then I took it back again. Then I went to get it again. I think it is working now.
Unlike my left hand.