Feeling lonely, these dark days? Unloved? Lost and friendless?
The solution is easy. Simply park your car, lift the bonnet, and wait. Soon you'll have human contact coming out your ears. I know. It happened to me.
"Whatsa matter, need a jump start or something?"
These shouted words shook me out of my breakdown-forced reverie. I looked up from the mouldy year-old Aldi catalogue that I'd been attempting to pass time with. A lad of about 17 was frowning in my window. I wound it down.
"Umm, thanks," I said. "Have you got jump leads?"
His frown deepened. "I thought YOU would," he muttered. And suddenly there was no more to say. The beggar of cigarettes should always have matches, after all, just as the autograph hunter provides the paper. Since I was thoughtlessly driving around in an ugly, superannuated rattletrap, his scowl seemed to say, the least I could do is carry some emergency kit.
He got back into his car – one of those that can hit 60 in milliseconds but takes speed bumps slower than Kevin McAleer talks – and I resumed my reading. Damn, I missed a good offer on insoles, I noted.
Then the sun came out, and a shadow fell across my page. "Hello!" it said. I looked up, squinting, at the man emerging from a gleaming Lexus two spaces over. He had on the kind of coat Sinatra would have had to save up for, so I took him for a HSE consultant or a freelance Chelsea
"Not really," I said, "It's just a bit damp, the sun will warm it up soon enough."
This seemed to give him great pleasure. "Aha," he laughed, "but you can't even listen to the radio, eh? Here, have this." And he handed me a newspaper. Then he was gone.
Wow. Two people with whom I'd never normally interact had spontaneously offered assistance. Buoyed by the kindness of these strangers, I tried the ignition again – alas, without success.
But the mewling of my starter drew the attention of a family in a camper van. The resourceful clan mother, upon hearing my plight, produced a hairdryer from their road-going home and in five minutes my engine was warmed and running. And that, friends, is a happy ending.
But it's winter now, and you're sure to see me, or someone like me, broken down again sometime soon. When you do, please stop by to say hello.