Now, normally, I drive straight into spaces – I’ve never been a fan of reversing, especially in my younger years when I found it quite difficult. However I was immediately stopped this time as the entire five car parking spaces were full up.
Just to the left of these spaces was a very tiny piece of tarmac that had a wall around one side of it. It was always impossible to drive into this section, but you could reverse a small portion of your car, enough to get off the main road and harmless for the five minutes it took to pop into the off-licence to retrieve your milk and bread.
So, my task was set – I’d reverse into this little spot and my quest would be fulfilled!
I manoeuvred my car to the necessary turning point, and started my reversing. Mirror – check. Gear in reverse – check. Rear windscreen de-misted – almost.
Crunch.
In my rush to get my milk and bread, I had reversed rather badly, and got half of my car into this tiny piece of tarmac. The other half of my car hit the car that was parked in car space number five.
I was mortified, and so was my friend. I went to put my car into first gear to drive forward so I could get out and inspect what damage I had done, but was stopped in my tracks by a finger fiercely tapping at my side window.
Unknown to me, the car I had hit had a woman in it waiting for her husband to come out of the shop with their milk and bread. As I bumped into her car, she saw red and had leapt out to confront me. It was her fingers tapping on my car window.
I began winding my window down, expecting a barrage from this woman. She was quite understandably upset, and I was about to apologise profusely. My fingers trembled as I wound down the window (my car did not have anything fancy like electric windows back then).
The window was like a quarter down, and the woman started to speak. “Do you know what you’ve just done!” she boomed. She leaned forward to glare at me.
