Hey listen to this. Well, you know I’ve got a new car? Come to think about it I didn’t tell you about it, so I guess you don’t! Well, I have. It’s a pink Smart! It’s so cute I smile every time I see it.
As I was saying, listen to this (I think you say ‘listen up’ in the States – at least they do in the movies)
Last night I was volunteer driver when I went with my friend to the pub. This means I can’t have drink. After I dropped her off I made my way home. It was very dark and it was raining so I drove very carefully.
Well, there I was singing away when I was suddenly half-blinded by a blue flashing light in my mirror. I thought it couldn’t be a fire engine because it was too small, and it wasn’t an ambulance because it didn’t have ECNALUBMA written on the front. Why do they do that? I mean you should be able to tell if you have a blood- wagon behind you without them having to write it backwards for the sake of your mirror. Also if I was helping with an emergency in the street (I am a qualified first-aider don’t forget) and had to call an ambulance, I wouldn’t recognise it because it would just look like a truck delivering Ecnalubmas.
Where was I? Ah, I worked out it was a cop car (I love saying that! It sounds far better than saying police car. I got that from the movies too). The road is very narrow so it couldn't get past me. It occurred to me after a mile or so that perhaps they wanted me to stop, so I pulled over and dropped the window. I didn’t actually DROP the window of course, I wound it down.
“Good evening boys” I said, but they didn’t smile. One of them said rather crossly “Get out of the car please love”
Well I don’t like being called love. I don’t mind when my Gran says it, but I don’t expect it from someone I don’t know. “I’m not your love “I said. In retrospect (that means in hindsight) it was probably not the right thing to say, because they looked slightly rattled. So I got out.
The conversation went something like this.
Me “Why have you stopped me?”
Tall cop “Because you were driving too slowly”
Me “I was driving carefully because I am not used to the car”
Chubby cop “Is this your car love - sorry, madam” (sarcastic turd)
Me “Not really"
Well that was almost certainly the wrong thing to say. Actually it was the right thing because it actually belongs to my Father’s car dealership and he lets me use it as if it were mine, but under the circumstances it was the wrong thing to say. I explained the situation and he asked if I was properly insured to drive it. I said I thought I probably was, and again I think I should have thought it out before I opened my cake-hole ( If my mum reads this she’ll tell me off for using a vulgar expression!)
So the tall cop got on his walkie-talkie thing and spoke to someone called Over, until he reluctantly conceded that I was permitted to drive it (did you spot my joke – someone called Over!)
Then to add insult to injury fat cop asked if I had been drinking. I should have just said no. After all, that would have been a truthful answer. Instead I said “Well, I have spent all evening in the pub” So he went back to his car and got this thing you breath in to – a breathalyser I think it’s called.
Fat cop “Blow in here until I tell you to stop”
Me “I’d rather not I don’t know where it’s been”
Tall cop “Just blow madam”
Well I blew as best I could but it seems I wasn’t blowing hard enough. The thing is, at finishing school (I love saying that – it sounds so posh!) we were told never to blow out our cheeks because it looks unladylike. “One puffs, not blows ladies” Anyway, I gave in and did as I was told, and they reluctantly agreed that I had no trace of alcohol on my breath.
Eventually I got away. They said they wanted to leave first as they did not want to get stuck behind me for miles as they hoped to be back in time for breakfast.
That’s it really. Now I read it back it’s not that interesting, so if you haven’t made it to the end I’ll understand, not that you know I understand because you won’t have read it!
Here is a photo of my car. Bye bye.