Return of the curse (Wednesday, May. 11, 2005)

So it was a good week, no diary entries, no catastrophies. Until yesterday that was. Having not been to the gym for the best part of 2 months, I decided it was time to check out the swanky gym 5 minutes away from the office. Got myself on an induction, had a quick nose round and headed back towards the office. So far so good. That is until I had to leave the gym car-park. You see the exit to the car-park was blocked by a barrier, that required a pass-code to open it. I vaguely remember the lady in the gym mentioning a code, but to be honest I was so distracted by this collosal mole on her forehead that it was all I could do to not stare at it. It was like a third eye that followed you wherever you moved, so she was telling me "the code to the car park is 9083" and all I was hearing was "the mole to the mole mole is 9 mole 8 mole".

So I had two numbers, so stupidly I decided to try and guess. I leaned out of my car window but like some learner lady driver (and most experienced lady drivers) had parked too far away from the barrier, so had to open the car door and step out. As I was randomly trying numbers I felt something tugging at my leg. It was my car. Did I mention the car park was on a steep hill? Or that my hand-brake had been temporamental of late?

So there I am, trying to hold my car up on this hill with my leg for long enough to grab the hand-brake, when the inevitable happens, and it's off down the hill. This is when I notice the car coming up behind me, honestly the look on the lady's face was a scream. Instead of trying to swerve to avoid the oncoming Citroen Saxo, she put her hands over her eyes! Lucky for me she had the sense to put her foot on the brake, so both she and I didn't go rolling down the hill together.

She stepped out of the car looking cross and not half as funny now, and I desperately tried to think of the appropriate thing to say. In hindsight, "thanks for catching my car" wasn't the best response. I think she was probably looking for "I'm so sorry I damaged your brand new mini, and scared you half to death in the process". Though I'm sure my cheeky grin helped to disarm the situation.

Fortunately her car was only a little dented, and now my boot won't shut properly unless you really slam it, but I'm sure she'll skin me for every penny on the repairs. Oh well, at least I'm a member of a gym now, even if the joining fee will probably be in excess of �300...

By the way, if anyone wants to be notified when my diary is updated, drop me an email to [email protected] - diaryland have an auto-notification list thing....oooooooooooh

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