Friday, 7 September 2007

Of Cabbages and...

Where I once worked there was a filing clerk whose name wasn't Joan. Not Joan's husband was a policeman. One day he went to Tesco's and bought some potatoes, a leek and half a cabbage wrapped in polythene. He put them on the floor behind the driver's seat. At some point during the journey home the half cabbage rolled under the brake pedal. When he tried to stop at a traffic light the cabbage wouldn't let him, and he rammed the car in front. They don't practice cabbage stops on pursuit driving courses.

Not Joan's family lived up north. One year her aunt drove down to visit them. It was the furthest she'd ever driven. Although she arrived safely, the journey took longer than expected. The aunt explained that she had had to go quite slowly, because the A1(M) was so bumpy. It turned out she'd driven the whole way on the hard shoulder.

Working there made me feel quite normal.

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