When it's raining hard, parking can always be a problem at our local supermarket because everyone wants to be under cover. I was thinking about this yesterday on my way to the shops when suddenly our car started acting out.
A long period of neglect has obviously upset our Pajero. She's been making all sorts of noises and throwing bits of herself on the ground. So last week we had her serviced and gave her a couple of new tyres, but it was too little, too late, I fear. Going by my drive to the shops, she's still chucking tantrums.
At first I didn't realize what was going on: I just all of a sudden felt moist in my crotch. I looked down to find I'd wet my pants. This really surprised me because I made sure I went before I left home.
It took me four more corners before I worked out what was happening, because the next three corners I took were right turns. But on the fourth corner, when I turned left, I saw a stream of water leave the top of the windscreen and dump itself into my lap.
Another right corner. Nothing.
Left. The wet patch between my legs expanded, like I'd thought, 'Oh well, I've started, I may as well finish off and then I'll change my pants.'
And the truth is I was contemplating going home and changing my pants, but then I realized I'd strike the same problem on my way back to the shops every time I turned left.
Which was when I realized this solved my parking problem.
Instead of battling for a position under the shops I had my pick of the parks out in the open in the pouring rain and by the time I got inside the rest of me matched my crotch perfectly.
Wondering where we've been? Wonder no more.
We've moved. Here's BFLI's new home.
We've moved. Here's BFLI's new home.
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