Left behind...
Returning back from my trip even further up North I relaxed back on the settee and could feel my aching muscles. 135 miles I'd cycled in 3 days. And I was fucked.
Then there was a knock on the front door. I struggled off the settee and thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't cracked open whilst doing it. I opened the door to be greeted by my next door neighbour. Ordinarily she only wanted one of two things: someone to open her bottle of wine when the husband was away (I might explore that one in more detail in my next post...next year), or to hand over a parcel that the postie couldn't be arsed to leave in the shed.
She was carrying neither wine, which is probably good news at it was 1.00 in the afternoon, nor porn, err I mean parcel.
"You haven't shut your car door properly" she said in a sort of ner, ner, ner, ner, ner fashion, before turning on her heel and going back to her own abode.
"Oh right, thanks" I replied, wondering whether it was pure coincidence that I'd been away for 4 days and nights without the car and she'd knocked on my door 5 minutes after I got back, or whether she'd been knocking on my door hourly for 4 days with any one of wine, parcels or bad news.
Anyway I was also thinking that it was odd, as I can pretty much guarantee that I always shut the car door properly. I'm a bit careful like that, but this time she was right - it wasn't shut properly. So I opens it, then shuts it. 'Why couldn't she just have done that, instead of waiting till I get home to tell me?' I thought as I creaked back to the house.
A little later after a shower and a rub down by a Thai masseuse - I dont know if masseuse is male or female, but I mean the female variety if it's male, it's irrelevant anyway as it was a fantasy and not reality - I pick my keys up and head out to the car to go to the shops.
Sitting in the drivers seat I'm immediately aware of the glove compartment open, then aware of my satnav missing, then glance down and notice my envelope of petrol receipts gone, then the colour of the loose change in the ashtray bit is a bit silverless, etc.
It appears that the car had been relieved of the valuable stuff in it by the local valuable stuff relievers. They are very thorough.
When I say I can pretty much guarantee that I always shut the car door properly, I cant always say the same about locking the car. It does it automatically after 30 seconds so I get a bit lazy. How lazy exactly do you have to be to not be arsed to press a button on something that is in your hand?
That's probably for another day.
Anyway, it transpires that when I'd picked the bike up from it's service at the local bike emporium before I went away, the bike rack had prevented the boot from shutting properly, which in turn had prevented the car from locking itself.
The local car door tryers had struck gold when they undertoook their monthly try of car doors, hoping for one to be unlocked.
As I drove to the shops, I changed the cd in the cd player and perused the quandry.
How bad does your taste in music have to be exactly, to have everything in your car stolen except for the cd's?
Then there was a knock on the front door. I struggled off the settee and thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't cracked open whilst doing it. I opened the door to be greeted by my next door neighbour. Ordinarily she only wanted one of two things: someone to open her bottle of wine when the husband was away (I might explore that one in more detail in my next post...next year), or to hand over a parcel that the postie couldn't be arsed to leave in the shed.
She was carrying neither wine, which is probably good news at it was 1.00 in the afternoon, nor porn, err I mean parcel.
"You haven't shut your car door properly" she said in a sort of ner, ner, ner, ner, ner fashion, before turning on her heel and going back to her own abode.
"Oh right, thanks" I replied, wondering whether it was pure coincidence that I'd been away for 4 days and nights without the car and she'd knocked on my door 5 minutes after I got back, or whether she'd been knocking on my door hourly for 4 days with any one of wine, parcels or bad news.
Anyway I was also thinking that it was odd, as I can pretty much guarantee that I always shut the car door properly. I'm a bit careful like that, but this time she was right - it wasn't shut properly. So I opens it, then shuts it. 'Why couldn't she just have done that, instead of waiting till I get home to tell me?' I thought as I creaked back to the house.
A little later after a shower and a rub down by a Thai masseuse - I dont know if masseuse is male or female, but I mean the female variety if it's male, it's irrelevant anyway as it was a fantasy and not reality - I pick my keys up and head out to the car to go to the shops.
Sitting in the drivers seat I'm immediately aware of the glove compartment open, then aware of my satnav missing, then glance down and notice my envelope of petrol receipts gone, then the colour of the loose change in the ashtray bit is a bit silverless, etc.
It appears that the car had been relieved of the valuable stuff in it by the local valuable stuff relievers. They are very thorough.
When I say I can pretty much guarantee that I always shut the car door properly, I cant always say the same about locking the car. It does it automatically after 30 seconds so I get a bit lazy. How lazy exactly do you have to be to not be arsed to press a button on something that is in your hand?
That's probably for another day.
Anyway, it transpires that when I'd picked the bike up from it's service at the local bike emporium before I went away, the bike rack had prevented the boot from shutting properly, which in turn had prevented the car from locking itself.
The local car door tryers had struck gold when they undertoook their monthly try of car doors, hoping for one to be unlocked.
As I drove to the shops, I changed the cd in the cd player and perused the quandry.
How bad does your taste in music have to be exactly, to have everything in your car stolen except for the cd's?
