Me and my car....a disaster waiting to happen!

My knowledge of cars, and their complex inner workings is lacking. Actually, when I say lacking, I mean non existent. This, coupled with my ability to cause chaos wherever I go, is why my poor car must hate me.

As all sensible parents would do mine put me in a breakdown cover. This was to protect me, and indeed them, when disaster struck. And strike it did. In the space of two years I managed to call the company out three times, to deal with mechanical problems like my tyre blowing while I was merrily doing 80mph in the middle lane on the motorway, or when my battery died leaving me stranded in a dark park. I have also called on them when my own stupidity (they don’t call me blonde for nothing) caused me to lock my keys in the car while visiting friends in Hereford.

However for my latest car disaster I didn’t call them, as I wasn’t sure they would take me seriously. Imagine the phone call ‘Hello, I was driving along and my wing mirror just shattered.’

That’s exactly what happened (or what I thought had happened until I spoke to the oracle of cars, better known as my dad, later). I was driving along an empty country road, laughing at the antics of Chris Moyles and his crew, when suddenly there was an almighty bang. This caused me to scream, and hurriedly pull over. Now, I believed that one of my tyres had burst. Feeling slightly smug that I had worked out what the problem was, I got out of the car and checked my tryes. All four were fine. Feeling stumped I sat back in my car, and did what I do in times of stress, check to make sure my hair looked ok. Well, I may have to call on a cute policeman for assistance, and I wanted to look good! This was when I established the problem, the glass in my wing mirror was gone.

Feeling very confused I drove the rest of the way to work, to recount my tale. Proving that they know me well my colleagues all asked me what I had hit. The answer was nothing, I was the only car on the road, and there was nothing to hit!

On arriving home that night the car oracle assessed the situation and told me that, rather than just being the glass as I had thought, the whole wing mirror was broken.

The verdict on what actually happened? Well, according to the car oracle I hit a bird! You think even I would have noticed this! Apparently not.

So a word of warning to all the feathered  creatures out there, if you see a small silver clio heading your way with a blonde driver behind the wheel fly away. It will save your life, and will mean I still have a wing mirror to assess my hair. After all, that’s what they are for, aren’t they?!