Teabags, phones and automobiles

I’m not sure if I believe in a master plan or that things are meant to be. I think that we can achieve anything we put our minds to and while I will occasionally pause and acknowledge a random set of events culminating in something amazing, I generally err on the side of coincidence than on the side of fate.

However this afternoon I needed to nip out to Asda to buy some tea bags. As I was pulling the front door behind me I stopped and remembered I had left my phone on the sofa. I paused and hesitated between rushing back in, because I hate being without my phone, but then something inside me whispered “you know what? You’ll only be gone five minutes, why would you need your phone?” And I pulled the door shut behind me and got into my car.

20 minutes later I’m sat in my car, head in my hands with lots of Asda shoppers all casting glances at me as I try again to get my car to start. Whurrrrrrr whurrrrrrrr whurrrrrrrrr it said to me until I let go of the key.

Once it caught, coughing and spluttering into some kind of ignition only to immediately cut out. Whuuurrrrrrrrrr whuuurrrrrrr.

As a new set of shoppers started noticing and looking my way, I stopped again and sat, fuming. I wanted to throw the steering wheel out of the window, but who’s fault is it but my own?

Normally I would phone my brother in law. He’s a mechanic and owns a garage about ten minutes away from my house. Not that it’s open on a Sunday, but generally, anything car related and we turn to him for advice.

To make matters worse my stupid bank which used to charge me £15 a month for a cool account with rewards, one of which was breakdown cover, decided to do away with that account and with it went my RAC membership.

Not that I could have phoned them, anyway.

Oh and finally, for the first time in history, as far as I can remember, the random set of groceries I bought in Asda had come to exactly £10 so I didn’t have a single scrap change on me, to use a pay phone.

I finally climbed out of the car and started walking home. Not only was this a massive inconvenience, not only was I fuming at myself for not taking my phone, but on top of it all, I was having unwanted exercise forced upon me.

I walked home, scouring the pavements for some rouge 20p pieces for the pay phone, but all I saw in my entire journey was a shiny bronze penny.

“It’s okay, I’ll soon be home with a nice cup of tea.” I told myself, but I also dreaded telling my other half, knowing that his first response would be: why didn’t you take your phone?

I slammed the front door shut behind me.

“I’m a massive dickhead” I announced, and recounted my tale of woe.

“Why didn’t you take your phone?” He asked me, causing me to smile.

10 minutes later, with a cup of tea in hand, I’d phoned Asda to ask them not to clamp my car, and my brother in law had promised to sort something out the following morning to get the car moved to his garage.

Sorted.

I suspect though, that as soon as I get to my car tomorrow, it will just start first time.

At some point I’ll look back on this story and laugh. I’m not quite there yet. But the blueberry muffin cheesecake I bought from Asda, may just help.

Well played fate. I’ve learned my lesson about gambling with you. And I’ll never leave home without my phone again.

Teabags, phones and automobiles