Ever had a day that you wish you could simply rewind and start over?
It began badly. I bent the car on the way to day 2 of the course (not quite The Accident, but certainly An Accident) - a large truck decided it wanted both sides of the road, so could I drive on the pavement for a little while please?
Hitting a kerb at over 50 miles an hour is not good for the sphincter.
After a while, I was able to release my death-like grip on the steering wheel, realise that the car was still in its proper orientation (namely, wheels on ground, roof in air) and gingerly attempt to drive on to the sound of distressing noises from the steering.
I took it to a garage later and was told:
"Oh yeah mate, yer flange rebate valve's gone"
"My what?"
"Tch - yer flange rebate valve. Cost yer a 1000 quid to fix. Nah, wait a sec - 1000 quid and 49 pence"
"What?? What's the 49 pence for?"
"The *new* flange rebate valve, of course. The rest is for labour. Come back next week and we'll have got some greasy handprints on the upholstery for you"
Nothing more to say about the course. I'd had some sleep last night and was disappointed by the non-appearance of the gimp.
Since my car was (and is) in the tender car of the world's worst mechanic, I opted for my usual panacea of excessive drinking with the boss, since I wouldn't have to drive home. Except I fell asleep on the train and woke in London. I woke up with what I hoped was my own drool on my chest and the words of first-born ringing in my ears: "You'd be really good looking if your tummy was smaller". Time, I think, to cut out the beer. And switch to tequila.
