Sedative

Dropped a massive, massive bolleau this morning. Horrible, horrible, horrible. Put unleaded in the diesel fuel tank. And the car's not even mine! Completely cringingly awful.

The bolleau exploded as I dropped Dan off at work this morning, some 3-4 miles from the filling station. So I sheepishly rang the hire company and explained they were talking to a pillock. They in turn passed me over to the AA.

And so it was that a yellow truck came to Meriden. A special one that deals with fuel disasters. It would now be lunch time and streaming out the office are Dan's young pals. There, right in front of the main entrance is the yellow truck with the disco lights, plus newly erected signs warning against naked flames and using mobile telephones. I should have been made to wear a T-shirt. On one side 'DIPSTICK' and on the other 'DAN'S DAD.'

Having sucked out every last molecule of the nasty unleaded and filled up with the proper stuff, plus a few well chosen additives for good measure, it was time to put things to the test. Things began with a splutter. A chesty cough was to be expected. But as the unleaded burned away and the diesel pumped through, so the wheeze turned to a purr. The AA had saved my bacon.

The preceding four and a half hours had been dreadful. A topsy-turvy ride of inward and outward thoughts and messages, all negative with pointy, jabby fingers, all beating me about the head. I wandered through a bunch of fields, and eventually stared at this. It called a halt to the shouting match. You could call it a sedative.