I went out today and braved the shops. Technically I'm done shopping but my head isn't so in turn that makes my body want to keep shopping until the doors close on Christmas Eve.
Off I went as my head (it's a weapon of mass destruction!) had decided it wanted to get Better Half one more thing. Being female (!!!) my car is running a bit low on petrol (which is girl speak for the red light has been on for about 30 miles!) so I decided to take Better Half's car as he is male and therefore always has petrol in his car...I knew men were useful for something.
So I get to the shop, make my purchase - actually I need to correct that - I made several purchases, it's not just my head that runs away with me, I think my eyes have problems to...they see things and my body instantly picks them up...I may need to seek help for this in the New Year especially when the credit card bill arrives! Anyway I digress, so I complete my transaction and head back to the car...slightly concerned for a split second because the car park is hooching (extremely busy for those of you not from Scotland) and I can't remember where I parked. I find it and decide to head to another shop for another random item my head has just told me to buy.
I get to the shop and start looking for a parking space. It's like wacky races, or musical parking with all the drivers spotting a space and seeing who can get in it first..."right the music has stopped find a bloody space or your out" style. Several minutes tick by and I'm going round in circles getting ever more annoyed by the lack of spaces and the amount of old women in Micra's fannying about taking 7 attempts to get in and out of various spaces and holding everyone up...then I spot one...I see ahead of me a lovely empty space...and it's calling my name! I head for it and swing the car round to enter the space and...Bump.
Oops! I only go and hit the bloody car parked in the space next door. I don't hear smashing or a major bang but I feel a shudder and know I've hit it. I get the car in the space and swallow the lump in my throat and get out to have a look...I'm greeted with a nice scrape on the corner of the front bumper...I glance at the other car...luckily the driver is not in it and there's no-one else around...it seems ok, no marks to be seen on it...so I do what all good drivers do in these occasions...I get back in the car and drive away...only as far as another space though...I had shopping to do!
So I complete my shopping...looking behind me all the time in case someone saw what I did and they're coming to get me...and head back to the car. Some need a stiff drink when they have a bump, some have a fag to calm their beating hearts, I needed the "kerching" of the till...I pull out a tissue and give the car a rub...thankfully the scrape is superficial and most of it rubs away...oh but deep joy because while I rub off the superficial scrape marks I also rub off a scratch in the paint and I'm now left with a nice white mark where the paint has come off...it is at this point I start feeling a bit sick...not because I've damaged the car but because I've damaged HIS car and he is going to kill me. I am dead and no mistake. I toy with taking it to a garage to be repaired but know in my heart that even if I bought a fucking exact copy of HIS car he'd know it was different. He'd spot a repair a mile away using his Man Radar or whatever it is he has that means he knows when I'm up to no good...I am panicking by this time.
I should confess that my fear is down to the fact that I once crashed his (brand new) car and caused over £1000 of damage...to be fair though it was snowing...anyway he went off on one big time and I was barred from driving his car for months!
However I am a big girl now and I can take it on the chin so I decide to confess what I've done...so I phone him (well I wasn't going to tell him to his face!) and I swear to god the conversation goes like this...
Me - "Hello, How's you? Do you still love me ?"
Him - "What have you done to my car?"
Fucking man radar I'm telling you!!!
So I tell the tale and hold my hands up to my crime and guess what? He doesn't even bother that much...well he calls me an arse but there's no shouting, swearing, screaming...I'm stunned!
All my worrying was for nothing!
Of course it turns out that he's not that fussed because the front bumper needs to be replaced anyway because HE hit an animal and caused £750 worth of damage to the car!
So I am relieved and he is cool about it. Phew...although he has barred me from using his car again...so I sent him for petrol for mine!