So Mr T says to me he needs a hand getting new fencing from B&Q today. Fair enough I thought and off we go in the van to Purley Way.
Now I'm a really nervous passenger in a car since I was involved in an accident a few years back so not a great car partner on busy roads. Needless to say Purley Way was like Whacky Races as per usual and after a couple of near misses and cut-ups the old palms are sweating and the colour is draining from my face. Not helped by the fact that Mr T is effing and blinding at everyone and it's starting to feel like I'm in that runaway truck scene from Teminator 3.
We finally get to B&Q and I escape from the van. Breathing returns to normal by the time we enter the corrugated kingdom. Wandered around aimlessly for about ten minutes before approaching a B&Q assistant in ill-fitting black shorts exposing his blue legs. The chirpy chappy tells us I need to go to aisle 46 for a clothes airer and mate should go outside for fencing.
We go our seperate ways and forget to arrange a meeting place.....of course. Needless to say we spend the next half hour playing hide and seek up down the aisles. I finally bump into him by kitchen sinks and he's sweating buckets after dragging the fencing around the store looking for me. I get one of those 'where the hell have you been' looks. I decide it's best not to get into a barney and just smile and help him drag the trolley up to the checkout.
As we approach the van my heart sinks. I'm looking at the size of the fencing and thinking 'this lot is never gonna fit in there'. Mr T sees the panic on my face and tries to comfort me by saying 'Don't worry - we're gonna put it on the roof'.
OK so I'm thinking how the hell are we gonna fix this lot to the roof? He must have a plan.
We lift the 6 peices of fencing (6' square BTW) on to the roof of the van after much puffing and blowing and three splinters.
Mr T then produces an ancient washing line that looks as if it would snap under the weight of a pair of wet jeans and we proceed to lash the timber mass to the roof. My stress levels are rising again at the prospect of driving home with this lot wobbling around up there.
We start off on the journey home and after the 6th roundabout there is definitely something stirring above and a quick look back reveals the washing line is sagging. It's at this point we hit the busy road again and we're propelled onto the Purley Way with about a ton of fencing dancing on the roof.
I'm now visibly shaking and Mr T says 'Don't worry. It'll be fine'. The words had just left his mouth when a bloke on a motorbike pulls alongside waving frantically. I think I'm having a seizure. Mr T almost doesn't see the traffic lights changing and slams on the brakes. I grip the dashboard and shut my eyes. We're OK it's still there.
The motorcyclist is alongside again and shouting at us. The washing line is unravelling and trailing behind the van. I'm expecting Mr T to pull up and tighten the line. Instead he just waves back and starts humming the theme tune from Thunderbirds. I'm now fighting back tears of terror and too stressed to say anything. I just sit there with eyes closed and buttocks clenched thinking of ways to kill Mr T and dispose of the body.
I think he was beginning to panic too by this stage and we slowed to a snail pace for the remainder of the journey. Finally got home with the fencing in tact and blood pressure stabilising.
'That was fun' he says!
I've just finished putting his severed limbs in black bin bags and off down the local dump now!
No comments:
Post a Comment