04-11-12, 01:30 PM
Here follows my long tale but it does have a funny ending.
Many years ago when I was a young high flyer I commuted to London along the M4 every day in my Datsun 280ZX. Like a poor man's E-type but even had one of the original car phones. Anyway it had a problem with the alternator where it would suddenly start discharging, you could see the ammeter flick over to minus charge, then you had about 2 miles before it would grind to a halt.
I had picked it up from a garage in Maidenhead that morning after they assured me the problem was fixed and charged me ££££££££££££
On the way into London I thought I saw the ammeter needle flick over to minus but it got me to work.
Now comes the fun.
On my journey home I got onto the elevated section of the M4 westbound and the problem reoccurred.
Being a young high flyer I immediately used my phone, it was an operator connect service, and asked her to contact the Maidenhead garage asap as it was their fault and I knew they had a 24 hour tow truck service.
Stuttered about another mile and came to a very dark, very cold halt on the hard shoulder. Naturally I had not had the forethought to close the electric windows and the phone was now also dead. BOLLOX.
Walked to the nearest emergency phone and explained my problems to the indifferent turd on the other end.
All he kept emphasising was that "I MUST STAY WITH THE VEHICLE"
I was probably about midnight by now and getting colder.
An hour later, and getting a bit pissed off, I walked back to the emergency phone to check progress and was told "STAY WITH THE VEHICLE"
As I walked back to my car I saw the tow-truck pull up alongside, check that "NOBODY HAD STAYED WITH THE VEHICLE" , ignored my frantic waving and fucked off.
So, back I march to the phone point where I was told to "STAY WITH THE VEHICLE" and they would call another rescue vehicle.
Back I went, dejected, abandoned, freezing cold (only in shirt sleeves) and growing increasingly agitated.
Another hour passed and as it was now about 0230 I reached breaking point.
Back to the phone where I was told................. etc.etc.
AFAIK the conversation went like this............
"Listen you prick. Its all very well for you sitting in a nice warm office with your feet up on the desk (sound of feet being removed from desk) drinking a nice hot mug of coffee and telling me to STAY WITH VEHICLE but I am cold, tired and fucking fed up with STAYING WITH VEHICLE. So I am now going to fuck off home and you can keep your fucking help service and my fucking car and BOLLOCKS to you."
Now as I returned to my car to get my housekeys two things happened.
1) A police traffic car passed me on the other carriageway and glowered across at me, and
2) I realised that the emergency phones are answered directly by the Police traffic car drivers.
There then followed one of those comic Fawlty Towers kind of exchanges when two very unhappy looking policemen climbed out of their car and climbed into florescent jackets and sarcastic patronising conversation mode.
"Good evening sir. Are you the gentleman I was speaking to on the emergency telephone?"
me..............errrr, ahem, yer but no but.
Now my dear old dad was a copper and always impressed on me to be civil to Plod as in any argument there could only be ONE winner.
In fairness to them, after I had passed the attitude test, they were extremely helpful.
First they jump started me, then drove behind me in case of further problems. After about 2 miles the bastard car started discharging again and they pulled alongside and told me turn all my lights off!! I shall always remember the incredulous looks of oncoming motorists seeing me not only driving with no lights but with a fuck-off big police car up me chuff.
Finally they got me home and I asked them in for a drink. They pointed out politely that they DID NOT drink and drive and exchanged knowing looks as I quickly downed a large scotch.
So there we are in my kitchen swapping tall tales at about 3am when there comes a voice from the top of the stairs.......................
the Kraken awakes.
"Oh............. you've decided to come home at last then!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
3 expressionless faces exchange looks
"What's your pathetic excuse this time ??????????" sounds of footsteps descending stairs and my heart rate rapidly increasing.
It enters the kitchen, resplendent in nightie and curlers.........................
Oh, hello dear, these............
"FUCK OFF. I am fed up with your pathetic stories. I don't know why you bother coming home at all. But I have to hand it to you. This time you've excelled yourself with these two pantomime policemen. Well I don't believe YOU and I don't believe THEM so you can all FUCK OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Now for my part I have never been so embarrassed but those poor two guys. How they got through the front door two abreast and without hooting with laughter I shall never know.
I often imagine that they would have stopped around the corner and cried with laughter, then told and retold the story for years to come.
Many years ago when I was a young high flyer I commuted to London along the M4 every day in my Datsun 280ZX. Like a poor man's E-type but even had one of the original car phones. Anyway it had a problem with the alternator where it would suddenly start discharging, you could see the ammeter flick over to minus charge, then you had about 2 miles before it would grind to a halt.
I had picked it up from a garage in Maidenhead that morning after they assured me the problem was fixed and charged me ££££££££££££
On the way into London I thought I saw the ammeter needle flick over to minus but it got me to work.
Now comes the fun.
On my journey home I got onto the elevated section of the M4 westbound and the problem reoccurred.
Being a young high flyer I immediately used my phone, it was an operator connect service, and asked her to contact the Maidenhead garage asap as it was their fault and I knew they had a 24 hour tow truck service.
Stuttered about another mile and came to a very dark, very cold halt on the hard shoulder. Naturally I had not had the forethought to close the electric windows and the phone was now also dead. BOLLOX.
Walked to the nearest emergency phone and explained my problems to the indifferent turd on the other end.
All he kept emphasising was that "I MUST STAY WITH THE VEHICLE"
I was probably about midnight by now and getting colder.
An hour later, and getting a bit pissed off, I walked back to the emergency phone to check progress and was told "STAY WITH THE VEHICLE"
As I walked back to my car I saw the tow-truck pull up alongside, check that "NOBODY HAD STAYED WITH THE VEHICLE" , ignored my frantic waving and fucked off.
So, back I march to the phone point where I was told to "STAY WITH THE VEHICLE" and they would call another rescue vehicle.
Back I went, dejected, abandoned, freezing cold (only in shirt sleeves) and growing increasingly agitated.
Another hour passed and as it was now about 0230 I reached breaking point.
Back to the phone where I was told................. etc.etc.
AFAIK the conversation went like this............
"Listen you prick. Its all very well for you sitting in a nice warm office with your feet up on the desk (sound of feet being removed from desk) drinking a nice hot mug of coffee and telling me to STAY WITH VEHICLE but I am cold, tired and fucking fed up with STAYING WITH VEHICLE. So I am now going to fuck off home and you can keep your fucking help service and my fucking car and BOLLOCKS to you."
Now as I returned to my car to get my housekeys two things happened.
1) A police traffic car passed me on the other carriageway and glowered across at me, and
2) I realised that the emergency phones are answered directly by the Police traffic car drivers.
There then followed one of those comic Fawlty Towers kind of exchanges when two very unhappy looking policemen climbed out of their car and climbed into florescent jackets and sarcastic patronising conversation mode.
"Good evening sir. Are you the gentleman I was speaking to on the emergency telephone?"
me..............errrr, ahem, yer but no but.
Now my dear old dad was a copper and always impressed on me to be civil to Plod as in any argument there could only be ONE winner.
In fairness to them, after I had passed the attitude test, they were extremely helpful.
First they jump started me, then drove behind me in case of further problems. After about 2 miles the bastard car started discharging again and they pulled alongside and told me turn all my lights off!! I shall always remember the incredulous looks of oncoming motorists seeing me not only driving with no lights but with a fuck-off big police car up me chuff.
Finally they got me home and I asked them in for a drink. They pointed out politely that they DID NOT drink and drive and exchanged knowing looks as I quickly downed a large scotch.
So there we are in my kitchen swapping tall tales at about 3am when there comes a voice from the top of the stairs.......................
the Kraken awakes.
"Oh............. you've decided to come home at last then!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
3 expressionless faces exchange looks
"What's your pathetic excuse this time ??????????" sounds of footsteps descending stairs and my heart rate rapidly increasing.
It enters the kitchen, resplendent in nightie and curlers.........................
Oh, hello dear, these............
"FUCK OFF. I am fed up with your pathetic stories. I don't know why you bother coming home at all. But I have to hand it to you. This time you've excelled yourself with these two pantomime policemen. Well I don't believe YOU and I don't believe THEM so you can all FUCK OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Now for my part I have never been so embarrassed but those poor two guys. How they got through the front door two abreast and without hooting with laughter I shall never know.
I often imagine that they would have stopped around the corner and cried with laughter, then told and retold the story for years to come.
I used to not give a foc, then I discovered Red Bull and now I don't give a flying foc !!!