It seems that while I was held hostage, someone keyed the old TT.
When I telephoned to report the crime, the ball jugglers I spoke to were, for once, models of efficiency. The insurance company, on the other hand, were models of deficiency, and kept me hanging on for hours.
Having to listen to endless repeats of Elton belting out 'I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues' didn't help the old blood pressure, I must say.
5 comments:
Why you little *@£(*@£(*^&! I ought to wring your neck!!
Good to have you back, Rammy ;-)))
(That's a bit of a wry grin, with a few double chins thrown in for good measure).
Someone keyed my car once and I have a feeling they did it with my car keys.
I really should start taking my handbag to the loo with me.
I can only assume that they intended to take the car, saw it, thought 'bugger that' and then did.
I found the keys laying in the gutter, next to it.
My friend Sabrina always keeps a ferret in her handbag, that puts them off.
A ferret in the handbag sounds like a wonderful idea except that you never quite know where they've been. Not sure that I'd want something in with my lippy and sanitaries that's been in a farmers' underpants.
I must add that the facilites here at Heathrow have improved somewhat since I last visited.
Free web access! Wow!
Coffee's gone up again, though.
Must dash as there's a strange looking gentleman standing behind me, fiddling with himself. I think he's itching to get on the computer.
That's a bit of an assumption. Maybe he's just got crabs.
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