I had to drive to London on Monday morning and noticed the temperature was on the wrong side of cold.
Even when I was in London I was wishing I had an electrically heated overcoat. I got home at 7pm had something to eat and was in bed for 8pm. Happy days.
I had left my cab at a local garage for some diagnostic work to be undertaken whilst I was away and had to pick it up the following morning.
I awoke on Tuesday morning ready to take on the world.
I had such a refreshing sleep after the rigours of the previous day, I gently wakened the dragon, oops, the missus and was invited to put the kettle on but thought better.
I said no, come on let’s get the cab picked up first and then we can come back and relax. And so it was, we drove up to the garage.
As we approached the garage my partner noticed that I had a flat tyre. I immediately thought to myself piece of cake. But no, things don’t always go to plan. I made a quick assessment and felt there was enough air to get me to the nearest garage. Bad decision. When I got to the garage, which is less than one mile from where I set off, the tyre was beyond help.
I couldn’t get air into it and so was now rooting about in the boot for all the essentials to get the tyre changed round. I got the jack and wheel brace out, slackened the bolts on the wheel then positioned the jack.
I started jacking up readying myself to change the wheel. As I got to the halfway point I noticed the jack wasn’t doing its work. I noticed it was bending slightly which prevented it from operating any further. All of this and its minus five degrees. I’m lying on the floor rolling about trying to sort the situation out cursing to myself at my own stupidity.
My own trolley jack was lying in the house. I hadn’t got round to putting it into my cab, after a friend had borrowed it. Total despair!
I was now half an hour away from picking up my first job. I realised I was snookered. I got on to the phone to a fellow cabbie but his phone rang out. I quickly tried another colleague and bleated the situation to him. He couldn’t help, but knew someone who could.
Thank the lord. I then phoned the local garage which I knew would be opening its doors. I explained the situation with the jack and asked how long it would be to get out to me. The guy said at least half an hour. I thought to myself that’s fine I’ll just get a butty and a drink and have a smoke to pass the time.
I scurried of into the sanctuary of the garage and gorged myself on a sausage butty, washed down with some really sweet coffee.
But while eating my feast I got some unusual looks from some of the other customers. What did they expect me to do, stand outside in the freezing cold and eat it. I think not!