Crash, bang, wallop...

Today was a write off. Well, actually my car was a write off. At about 10.20am. Which was the moment in time when, as I sat in my car waiting at a red light, a DAF lorry belonging to Kwik Fit decided to plough into the back of my vehicle. Ironically, the side of the lorry contained an advert that asked: "Does your car need an MOT?" Sadly, it needs slightly more than that.

Having refused a journey in an ambulance to casualty just after the crash, I was persuaded to make the trip later in the day. I spent four hours mulling around accident and emergency drinking really horrible vending machine coffee. Was kept amused for a short time by a builder who sat opposite, who had fired a six inch nail from a Hilti gun through his thumb. It looked like the kind of visual gag you'd buy from a joke shop. After he'd been sat there for five minutes a 12-year-old in a tracksuit wandered over and asked the highly intelligent question, "does that hurt?". I got the all-clear from a nurse after 40 minutes but then had to wait for the same from a doctor. I embarrassed myself when I misheard a name that was announced. For a few brief seconds I was, in the eyes of the waiting room's varied clientele, who watched me jump to my feet and dash towards the nurse, Jane Winters.