Thought I weas doing the right thing; I felt my tyres and the little nobbles between the treads were pretty much level with the treads. Timer for another set or half set of new tyres, it’s a heavy car, so I’m told, I haven’t tried to lift it or push it, but it has the look of not being able to leave the ground, and its absolutely nothing to do with the way I rag my electronic car around the country lanes. Really it isn’t. Thank god its a company car otherwise it would be stood on the driveway with slicks (thats tyres with no tread I think) and I wouldn’t have a job anymore and probably wouldn’t be living in this house too if that was the case, so thank fuck for the government bailing me out every 6 months or so.

Usually I have little regard for my car, it gets me to and from work and hopefully down to London tomorrow, other than that its something extremely expensive that I keep outside in the rain, sleet, snow and sun and it gets washed when something goes wrong with it, the people at Ford seem to like cleaning it, and after getting stuck in the car wash earlier this year I’m cautious to vivit my local IMO car wash and therefore have to look further afield. Generally when I spot one, and am further afield, I am on the way home and so make a mental note to revisit thew car wash next time I am there, and then promptly forget as soon as I get home. I also always forget to make a note of my business mileage and so tend to make it up, which is fraud; but what you going to do, if they don’t pay me enough to keep me accustomed to my frugal lifestyle then something has to give.

The people at Kwik Fit Euro, (they dropped the Euro bit when older people voted to leave the EU through lies and manipulation of the last Tory government and that revolting man Farage who never seems to stop throwing red meat out of his tour bus wherever he roams), the Kwik Fit chaps told me it would be an hour and then I could collect the freshly tyred beast. A walk into Worcester Cathedral and then back past all the shops whilst avoiding going into any, even Tescos. Shopping is becoming a bit of a bug bear of mine, supermarkets seem to be the only places I want to visit these days, and the internet of course. But I digress, this isn’t a particularly interesting story in the first place, best to just crack on with it. I was wearing my work boots, steel framed with lead in the soles, as I was due on site later, but the Kwik Fit Fitters had other ideas. Apparently they didn’t have appropriate tyres for the heavy electric car, the leasing company wouldn’t authorise any new tyres until they were told what they had in stock (nothing if you were paying attention)And as the tyres were on the border of being illegal they refused to let me have my car back. 

I swore. Its not Kwik Fit Fitters “they’re the boys to trust” but now it means I have to get the bus home, to become a Bus Wanker, which I seem to do through circumstance sporadically these days. Turns out I’d missed the bus to the top of the world and the next one is in 2 hours and a bit, not wanting to spend any time in the shops, a cafe or a pub; I’m trying to cut down on the stray pints, so I went to the Worcester library where I sought out my son who was revising and needed a sausage roll and a glass of water. I was hot, my feet were killing and I think my socks and jeans were too tight, nothing was breathing and sweat was pouring out of mer, especially when A (my son) allowed a mother with 2 young children to skip the queue and din’t even say thank you. Standing in line when theres 4 people behind the counter all facing away from me and looking at the machines, not taking my order, not taking the mother’s order, just standing and looking at the machines, waiting for them to ping as the gurgled and spluttered. I’m hot and need to sit down. We ate and still had an hour to kill so I grabbed a book about Sri Lanka and leafed through that for a while, still realising I need to pick up some meat and milk (I forgot the milk needless to say). So more walking across town to another bus stop in my concrete boots via the supermarket where there were no queues for the self checkout, but there was one man relentlessly questioning the assistant about some bullshit, I need a bag for Christsake. 

Made it to the bus stop, two cars immediately parked at the bus stop, where the bus is meant to stop and I leant against a particularly smooth sloping wall and watched as my feet slipped forward on the slightly greasy pavement, which made for an uncomfortable 10 minute wait. The Bus came, and I hopped on, all the metal bars were painted shocking pink and the grey upholstery had jazzy flashes in it; like some 80’s Athena poster. The ride was unremarkable and longer than usual due to the tractors and narrow lanes with massive 4*4’s all over the place, does everyone have horses or live on farms here? 

Got home, put the cricket on and fell asleep on the sofa just in time to see England collapse and lose the first one day international against South Africa. Just hope the tyres are in tomorrow, I think I’ll have to take another bus ride into town, this time I’m wearing trainers.