I find myself in a traffic jam.My progress home via a carefully-crafted series of back roads and short cuts has ground to a halt somewhere in a residential suburb of Reading, where a queue of cars in front of me disappears around the corner.
Minutes seem to turn into hours, and my car boxed into the mess of vehicles, I get out to see what the problem might be.
Rounding the corner, I am greeted by the sight of a large van, completely and utterly wedged between parked cars as it tried to perform a U-turn in the road.
The side of the pantechnicon reads: "BERKSHIRE PIANO REMOVALS - Fast! Efficient! Mostly in tune!!!"
Well - oh-ho! - they've hit a bum note today, and I venture forth to offer the driver the benefit of my advice as he wandered around scratching his head.
"May I be of assistance, my good man?" I ask.
"Why, yes," the scruff replied, "are you able to offer a solution to my current predicament vis-a-vis my goods vehicle loaded to its capacity with a grand piano, which appears to have become immobilised in this public thoroughfare?"
"Have you," I ventured, "Tried taking off the handles?
"And the things that hold the candles?"
So. He had a cup of tea. And told me to bugger off.
No wonder this country's going to ruin.
* I am assured that the wonderful Mr Cribbins is not dead, but you can't be too sure in the present zombie scare
6 comments:
Were you, perchance, wearing a bowler hat?
Deprived of a FURST by a recalcitrant iPod.
I say, old bean. These posts are getting curiouser and curiouser.
WoD
It's the drugs.
I'm on pills for me neeerves, you know.
Hopefully TFMD is on pills for your nerves as well.
Just what it takes to ruin your day. one big berk stuck in the middle of the road.
What a Berkshire Hunt.
Why did he have to turn round? Had somebody been diggin' an 'ole in the ground, all big and sort of round?
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