"But you are working Sunday night!" said I.
"We can drive down on Friday night," said she, "have a good night out on Saturday and you can drive back Sunday morning while I have a kip in the back!"
"Oh," said our hero, "so no drinking for me because I'm driving, is that the plan?"
"Spot on," says she.
"Well," said I, "you can cough up half of the petrol money then."
"Tight bastard," said she unkindly.
So, last night at about ten-thirty or so we set off, her doing my head in and me resisting the urge to chuck her out of the car.
All went well, very light traffic, until we got to Scotch Corner where I pulled in for the loo.
"Go to the loo," said I.
"Sod off!" was her response. "These places cost a fortune."
"It's free!" I cried, but she wouldn't have it.
"No," says she. "We will wait until we are on a country road and you can pull over while I go behind a bush."
So, following the directions of the sat-nav faithfully, I duly turned into a layby on the A59 just outside of Ripon......and got stuck. We were well and truly kaput.
"Idiot!" she cried.
I phoned our Ken. "Come and get us."
"Can't until the morning," said he.
All night, stuck there in the dark with her, Ellen Jane, all wrapped up and sleeping like a baby while wearing MY socks for her poor cold-arse feet. I sat there, freezing and slowly changing my mind about euthanasia - not for me, for her. All sodding night, shivering like a dog crapping a bone - no fun at all.
Kenny turned up at half-seven and duly dragged us out of the field we were stuck in, sniggering all the way - and he has been telling the family about it ever since. I may never live it down.
So, two things you should know for peace of mind:
- Take no notice of sat-nav instruments, they were configured by idiots.
- Don't take Ellen Jane with you.
The Voice In The Wilderness
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