I don't often drive, but there are occasions when it's a convienient
means of transport.
I drove to Ikea today to buy a bed frame. In order to avoid the rush
I arrived at 8.45, 15 minutes before opening time, so I had time to
kill before the doors opened. I sat and watched fellow shoppers as
they parked.
I was pondering whether the driver of a black Mazda RX-8 was really
disabled as he went into the disabled bay closest to the entrance
door, and feeling smug that I'd bagged the (non-disabled) parking spot
closest to the shop exit. I then heard a satisfying crunch. The
driver had gone straight into a concrete bollard. And Oh what joy and
poetic justice as a perfectly healthy (physically at least) man
emerged from the deformed vehicle. A titter grew from my fellow
shoppers during our grandstand view of the hapless driver's clear
discontent at the sight of the damage.
"I bet you wish you hadn't used a disabled bay!" yelled one amused
shopper.
"Perhaps you should rely on common sense instead of sat. nav." cried
another wag.
"Are you going to report the damage... to the bollard?" asked a
third.
I bet he didn't.