I try not to post twice a day, but hey, things happen. It was a day of co-incidences where R and I both had car park gate incedents. I don't like incidents. I don't like having an incident.
R: I rang your mother and said I will take her to the podiatrist on Thursday. She wasn't answering, so I left a message.
Me: I rang Mother and told her you will take her to the podiatrist on Thursday. She didn't answer, so I left a message.
R had a little time this morning between jobs and came home briefly. As he was returning to work, pressing his remote control to open the car park gate to leave our car park, the gate hit a stupid motorist who was making some kind of three point turn. As the gate hit the motorist, he accelerated into the gate and a large bolt fell from the gate motor and the gate ceased to function. Fortunately the incident occurred as the Building Manager was arriving at work and he managed to get the fleeing offender's registration number. Some fifteen minutes later with a queue of cars behind him, the gate was levered open and R went off to his next job.
But I simply shall not be done over by such drama. I had my very own incident, also involving car park gates. I just won't tolerate R having a better story than myself (it was actually).
While home's car park gate swings up and down vertically, the car park gates at work swing horizontally. I arrived back at work this afternoon after my lunch break and only one half of the car park gate opened. Fine, it is wide enough to get my small car through, with a couple of inches either side to spare. In I went as I was passing through, maybe one margin was a little small. A gust of wind blew and moved the open half of the gate a little, just enough to scrape the side of my car. The mark may wash off, maybe polished off or is indelible and not worth repairing. I could have used another entrance, but smarty pants knows his car clearances well and did not allow for the weather factor
Still, not as bad as the time when I drove my Humber Super Snipe through a narrow gate with a bolt sticking out and gouged a longitudinal hole in the side of the old midnight grey English hulk, with bone coloured leather, I might add.
I was a most excellent and confident driver when I was young. Driving skills and judgement deteriorate with age, as the many recent occurrences of old drivers crashing into houses and cafes attest.