Hello, and thank you for visiting my site. I hope that you'll return often and always find something of interest about my world and what inspires me to pick up a pen. (This is a figure of speech, unfortunately. My handwriting is terrible!) Here's what I've been up to recently...
The evening started so well! Thanks to the power of Sat Nav, finding the venue – the Drax Sports & Social Club – in daylight was a breeze. Well, it was apart from discovering that the post code we’d been given was the same as the one for the adjacent power station. However, common sense prevailed and we soon found ourselves tapping our feet to that irresistible salsa beat. The Humba Rumba team and Mambo con Rumbo combined to make it a night to remember. Many of our friends from Strictly Salsa and the Wetherby Engine Shed were there and we danced our socks off.
Sweaty conditions are inevitable on such a crowded dance floor and frequent trips to the bar are a necessity. That said, salseros aren’t a very boozy bunch – everyone wants to get the complicated footwork and general styling right – and my tipple of choice on dance nights is J20, the orange and passion fruit variety.
Thank goodness for that! The return journey was in the dark, of course, and somewhere on the outskirts of York I missed a right hand turning. The Sat Nav recalibrated itself, but I started to lose the plot. The instructions always seemed to come slightly too late – or way too early – for me to grasp exactly which turning the bland voice intended me to take or, indeed, to identify it in time. So it was that, after much dithering, I was very grateful to find myself at last on familiar ground. The traffic lights at the end of Nunnery Lane were red and, as I pulled up, I became aware of another light, blue and flashing, behind me.
‘Just an ambulance,’ I remarked to my companion. ‘I wonder why it isn’t overtaking.’ The answer came when my door was suddenly wrenched open and I was ordered to switch off the engine, hand over my keys and get out of the car. It was a fair cop. The young policeman informed me that the erratic nature of my driving had caught his attention and I could well see why. At that time on a Saturday night, far too many drivers lurch out of pubs and clubs and set off for home in their cars.
I told him truthfully that I’d consumed only soft drinks all evening and I think he was disposed to believe me, but nevertheless a breathalyser was produced and I blew into it as hard as I could. Result ZERO. His manner had been polite and pleasant all along and became even more so after that. Pausing only to ask me where I was heading and seek advice on the best route for me from his partner, a female officer called Jo, he sent me on my way.
It could all have been so different if I had been drinking alcohol and I’m very grateful to my father (a driving instructor) who made me promise never to consume as much as a wine gum before sitting behind the wheel of any motor vehicle. Thanks, Dad!
As a writer, I treasure every experience, and I suspect that a character in one of my short stories will soon be undergoing something very similar. Whether it turns out well or badly will remain to be seen!
22 September, 2014