Friday, December 02, 2005


The side of my car didn’t look like that this morning.

But you should see the post I drove into. Ha! Oh.

I park like Frank Drebin.

I did this at my local petrol station, just as I was pulling in to get diesel. I really needed to fill up as well, otherwise I would have driven sheepishly away. No, I had to get out of the car and pretend like nothing had happened, while everyone else - and this was at 8:45 this morning so there were lots of people about - all politely pretended not to have seen anything.

I really appreciated their tact.

Category: Meatspace

1 comment:

  1. A true writer is always writing, whether he/she is actually writing words down on paper or not. I'm guessing that this post (the one that attacked your car, not the one you wrote on the blog) has always been there and that you've negotiated it handily a thousand times, but this morning, you were letting your mind write while the rest of you carried out a mindless daily activity like getting gas. Or diesel, as the case may be.

    If you're wondering how I know all this, it's because I've been there, my friend. Here are just a few of the ordinary objects that have ambushed me as I was writing/going about the business of living: one of Boston's lurching green line trolleys, a commercial regrigerator door, a bicycle messenger, a road rageaholic, and a Mormon on a mission.

    And I don't even have a car.

    The moral of the story is: don't let the necessaries of living stop you from living in your head! Okay, so an inanimate object will occasionally assault you out of nowhere, but that is the life we have chosen, pal. Deal with it.