Well, not toxic, exactly... maybe just a little bit rank. But in a nice way. With a garnish.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

outside wrexham

I queue for a very long time.

Fortunately I am very familiar with the British road systems and their peculiarities and have come prepared with some sandwiches and a can of pretend Red Bull.

I have been queuing now for three quarters of an hour and, I have driven the total distance of up to Where That Lorry Was When I Started and I am beginning to wander whether I should switch the engine off and go for a walk.

This might be a stroke of genius!
I will soon run out of sandwiches and, the pretend Red Bull will almost definitely give me wings. I look out of the window and study my immediate surroundings.

If you ignore the car next to me and the other car next to me and the other 45,372,849320000 cars and a scattering of lorries, the scenery still isn’t that good - although I suppose you might think it was luxury if you from somewhere deprived, like Birmingham, but I am from Wales so I have high expectations.

On the other hand, there is an embankment and some trees and the trees are almost green (through the layer of exhaust fumes) so that’s encouraging.

I switch off the engine.

Casually I open the door, brush off the crumbs, stretch, and look around.
My legs have got very sweaty and my trousers are jammed up my arse-crack. I hope no-one notices.

45,372,849320000 sets of eyes watch me (apart from people who might only have one eye) and my resolve wavers.

The car in front creeps forward almost two feet.

Relieved, I leap back in, start up the engine and rush forwards to fill the gap.