No Parking
11th January 2007
Despite The Trouble saying that I wouldn’t have any trouble being a shithouse as I was already well on the way to being one I now know for sure that I could never be a shithouse. This was brought home to me in no uncertain manner in an incident which happened this morning on
Market Street, the main shopping street of our little town.
About two weeks ago I was driving along this street looking for a parking place and for once was lucky for about thirty yards ahead I spotted a space on the other side. I couldn’t drive straight into it as there was traffic coming in the opposite direction so I pulled up just short of the parking space and indicated that I was going to turn right. The oncoming cars continued to pass me then fuck me if the driver of the final one didn’t pass me but, spotting the parking space, quickly indicated that he was turning left and turned into it.
I was livid, for he had clearly seen that I was waiting to park in the same space.
As he got out of the car, taking care not to look at me, as the guilty do, I wound down the window and shouted; “What did you do that for? You could see I was waiting!†He simply ignored me and walked off.
I can’t remember exactly what I thought at the time but if it wasn’t something like ‘What an absolute shithouse†I would be very surprised.
This morning the opportunity presented itself for me to do exactly the same dirty deed that had been visited on me. This time the scenario was that a car was waiting adjacent to a parking space with its right indicator flashing and I was driving in the opposite direction. I must have been in this sort of situation a thousand times before, and a thousand times I have driven on, but this time, probably prompted by what had happened a couple of weeks ago and my desire to be a shithouse, I quickly indicated that I was going to pull in and drove into the parking spot.
The driver of the other car was as livid as I had been. I got out of my car, the driver of the other car got out of his car and said something along the lines of what I had said when in his position two weeks previously, except that the words ‘twat’ and ‘fucking’ were included.
I immediately began to feel bad about it. In fact so bad that I knew I couldn’t go through with it. So I just said: “Sorry mate, I didn’t see you there,†got back in the car, reversed out and drove on. Thus proving that I couldn’t be a shithouse even if I wanted to.
So I shall just have to go on being the kind, generous, considerate, lovely, fellow who will do anything for you and hasn’t got a bad word to say about anybody, for the rest of my life. (And the fact that the driver of the other car in the incident, although maybe not a shithouse, was built like a brick variety of that convenience, had nothing to do with it).
Ignore this if you have already read it. My books Dear Air 2000 and Football Crazy are now in print. They are priced at £8.99 each and are available from Amazon, but readers of my blog can buy them direct from me for £7.50 including p & p. Just send me a cheque and I will send the book/books by return.
You can write to me at –
Terry Ravenscroft, 19 Ventura Court, Ollersett Avenue, New Mills, High Peak, SK22 4LL
You can write to me at –
Terry Ravenscroft, 19 Ventura Court, Ollersett Avenue, New Mills, High Peak, SK22 4LL
I was once cut up on the way to Sainsburys – I was in a very (unusually) bad mood already. At the next lights I continued to flash and hoot the guilty driver in front and give him the finger. The wife said “You should stop that”. Eventually his drivers door opened and I sprang out of my car. He continued to emerge from his van. A few minutes later his vast bulk finally stood before me. 6 feet 5″? 18 stone? tattoos everwhere and a mouth in a permanent snarl.
“And let that be a lesson to you” I said waving a finger at him before sliding back into my car and locking the doors.
“That showed him” said the wife.
I’ve never been very good at spotting sarcasm….
Comment by Four Dinners — January 12, 2007 @ 5:52 pm