Last week, I got myself into a bit of a pickle. My ‘pickle’ was having a flat tyre and being stuck, in the middle of nowhere, alongside a dark and unlit country road.
However, now that I’ve reflected on the situation, and how ‘pickled’ I was, if I had my time again I would give my alternative-self some pointers.
So here is my advice, to me…
Firstly, Kathryn, if you drive your car ten yards from your house and you hear a loud ‘KER KLUNK!’ don’t, in your head, insist that ‘the stupid handbrake’ has been left on. No. Stop the car. Don’t assume it was your poor driving- you know your driving fits into the ‘poor’ category when you tell a friend that Emily and Charlotte suffer from travel sickness and your friend says…‘have you tried driving SLOWER round sharp bends?’
Remember, a muffled growl coming from your bonnet is never going to be a sign of something good.
Also, if your car breaks down on a dark country lane, don’t get out of the car and walk up and down the side of the road whilst talking to the RAC man on your phone. Stay in your car. And if a policeman stops his car, stopping traffic on both sides of the road, don’t have a debate over whether or not it’s safer to be hit whilst in a car or safer to be hit outside of the car. For heaven’s sake, woman, get back in the car so normal traffic can be resumed and the nice policeman can go on his way back to fighting crime.
Then, when the nice, kind man from the RAC arrives 30 minutes earlier than expected, just chat about anything and laugh at his jokes. Under no circumstances do you slip up and correct his grammar; it will cause you bowel-opening shame. If he insists that the double roundabout, ahead, would have been a better place to stop because it is ‘well litten’, just nod. Nod gratefully that this information has been passed on to you (you, who didn’t know what a ‘wheel-nut’ was or where it was kept) and REMAIN silent! Do not let your brain try and clarify what he said, don’t say, ‘oh, you mean well lit?’ There will be a painful silence which will not be appeased by your embarrassed laughter. The RAC man will be well within his rights to shut his van door in your face and drive off without you.
Finally, when you get home, just sit down. Don’t do anything else, it’s clearly not your night. Do not try to manoeuvre the biscuit barrel from the cupboard to the table with one hand whilst on the phone to your mother. No. If you do, you’ll drop the biscuit barrel and its several thousand pieces will hide in every nook and cranny where you’ll spend the next hour hunting them all down. What you should do is have the conversation with your mother, first, and then (with both hands) you can stuff your face with biscuits and juggle the biscuit barrel in what ever way you wish.
If you follow this advice, you might not feel quite so mortified and stupid.
Thanks for reading my post,