So we're back in action: phone's working, internet's working, communications are back on track.
As is gallantry.
Tonight, you see, I let the little needle on the petrol metre slip that little bit too far (what can I say? I like to live on the edge) and next thing you know, the car's slowing to a halt in the middle of Highgate Hill.
In my sleep-deprived stupour, I somehow resist the urge to fall into a blithering pile of messiness - after all, I have no desire to be arrested as a traffic hazard - and instead pop the boot, get out of the car, call instructions to Ella and pull out the pram in preparation for the trek down to the petrol station.
Next thing you know, a rather nice looking RAV pulls up beside me, out of which a rather nice looking man - complete with British accent - leans, saying "Need a hand?"
*Note to reader: from this point on said rescuer shall be referred to as James Bond.
"Uh, I've just run out of petrol," I stammer, still wrestling with the pram.
"Hmmm..." says James, then points his finger down towards the local station and raises his eye-brows as if to say "it will be open, yes?"
"Yes!" I say a little too delightedly, then tone it down. "I think it's still open."
James flicks on his indicator without missing a beat. "You stay here. I'll be back."
Hasta la Vista, Baby.
Okay, sorry, wrong popular culture reference.
I sit back in the car, relieved - not only has my Good Samaritan saved the day but the kids are actually dealing with this hiccup with uncharacteristic cool.
Minutes later, James Bond returns, does his thing with the jerry-can, (while I stand by making lame jokes and thanking him profusely), refuses to accept any money for his expenses incurred and then disappears into the night with a smile and a beep.
Well, okay...just a smile.
And for a moment, I think, if it weren't for me being sweaty and stinky from a full day out, if it weren't for the car being full of so much crap it's a virtual drowning hazard, if it weren't for the hubby at home and the two kids trundled in the back-seat...this coulda almost been romantic.
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6 comments:
Why can't things like this happen to me?
Hehe- good one Jen! Chivalry is alive and well in suburban Bris-Vegas!
For the first time ever I ran out of fuel the other day; as luck happened it was right out the front of my mothers (I was going to the petrol station next- honestly!)but it meant I got to borrow her car to go get my jerry-can filled; anywhere else would have been a serious pain in the hole!
I love it when these moments that could so easily piss us off for the whole day turn out better than they should- Karma's a moody bitch but looks like you got her on a good day!
rn_buffoon
That is just so cool. It's good to know there are people like that out there.
-Ash
Julie - I thought the very same thing, you know. Never give up!
rn_buffoon - Yes, me and Lady Karma, we're like that. *crossing fingers*
Ash - darn right. I think you're probably one of them. :-)
I laughed out loud like a hyena from the "James Bond" part on. You know, your blog makes my day. It's truly one of the best ones out there.
aurora - that's the only thing I hate about blogging comedic stuff: you don't get to hear whether people are laughing or not. That would explain why I mercilessly hover over my hubby while he reads mine, scanning him for any sign of mirth.
And thank you for the glowing testimonial - that makes my day. :-)
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