Friday, December 3, 2010

The Warmists and the Whale Woman

Well the global warming is lying thick and deep across the country. The skies are leaden and threatening to drop more of the warm white stuff. I just dropped The Boy's car off for its MOT, doubtless there will be a big bill. So I'm not in the best of moods.

Still it's good to see that some folks are determined to brighten my day, whatever the cost.

On the walk home from the garage a car slowed to a halt beside me. The passenger wound down the window and asks if I know where Adams Autos is. I have already spotted that the car is a Prius. Normally all I would give this Prius driving pair is my views on warmists. Not today. Today I am in a bad mood.

"Are you looking for the showroom or the workshops?" I ask. "The showroom" responds the passenger.

"Ah, the showroom's are in the next village over, it's about 6 miles that way" I respond, waiving my arm in a generally southerly direction. "Your best bet is to turn round, take the second left, carry on for a couple of miles, then get onto the Motorway heading south, signed London. Get off at the next junction, it's only a couple of miles down the motorway. When you get off the motorway take the first left at the roundabout. Adams Autos is about a mile down that road, on the left, you can't miss it."

They offered their heartfelt thanks wound up the window and pulled away. A minute later they had turned round and are heading in the direction I had indicated. They wave and smile their thanks as they pass me. I smile and wave back.

Stupid bastards, I've never heard of Adams Autos and once on the motorway the next junction is about 35 miles south. Bloody warmists. I smile and head for the village Co-Op.

Five minutes later I'm in the Co-Op browsing for something for tea. Having picked up what I want I head for the checkout anticipating the usual 10 minute queue. Turning into the snack and confectionery aisle I am confronted with one of the village Chav females. She is a magnificent specimen of the chav life form. Fat doesn't do her justice, morbidly obese is closer but still inadequate. Her mobile is clamped to her ear as she carries on a loud conversation about what Shaz did to Daz down the pub last night. Pausing her conversation occasionally to swear at her three snot nosed kids as they run round the shop and generally make a real nuisance of themselves. It's quite surprising that such small children are able to escape her gravitational attraction so huge is this chav leviathan.

She wobbles between the displays of sweets, biscuits and crisps emptying the shelves into her basket. She seems not to be looking at what she is shoveling into her basket. She certainly isn't looking where she is going as her mobile conversation gets even louder and even more intense. Other shoppers flee her path like Pygmies fleeing a rampaging, enraged cow elephant.

As she approaches the end of the aisle she reaches for a large tin of Christmas chocolate biscuits from a display. At this moment one of her brats gets entangled in her legs, she trips, totters and falls. She hits the floor like Giant Haystacks hitting the canvas and I swear I heard the concrete floor crack. Fortunately she did not fall on the child but as she puts out her arms to break her fall her mobile goes flying through the air hitting the floor and breaking into more bits than is is good for a phone. It was a pointless exercise, her belly was always going to hit the floor long before her hands.

Like some grotesque cross between a whale and a turtle she flounders on the floor trying to turn herself over in order to get up. She curses her brats for tripping her and exhorts them to help her up. Fat chance.

The queue of people at the tills, being public spirited types, immediately went to her aid.
Pointless really, there was no way only six of them were going to get the whale woman back onto her feet. I reckoned their best option was to roll her out of the way and wait for a crane.

Me, I ignored the kerfuffle and with a huge grin on my face headed for the checkout while there was no queue. I shared a quiet laugh with the lad on the till and having paid for my purchases headed for the exit. Thoughtfully, I avoided stepping on the remains of Whale Woman's phone on my way out.

As I headed home the tow truck from the local garage passed me heading in the general direction of the Co-Op. I smiled again and my step became positively jaunty.


  1. That story perked up my evening Mr Rex!

  2. Glad to hear it Bucko. And on top of that The Boys car passed the MOT without needing any work done.

    Now something bad is bound to happen ;-)

  3. Passed? What, is it brand new?
    You're right, watch where you step for a bit. There's probably a rollerskate with your name on it ;-)