For Your Enjoyment - My Embarrassment

ttfn | 22:03 Tue 08th Feb 2011 | ChatterBank

45 Answers

Multi part posting, so please let me finish before joining in. Cheers.

(Yet) Another ttfn true story:

Years ago we had a super old campervan and I was going to drive my parents to Scotland for their first grand tour. We spent 2 days cleaning and polishing it and dad had given it a service, including checking the brakes. It got to about half past midnight and I was happy with everything. All items, apart from our valuables, were safely stowed away for an early start in just about 6 hours time. The van was gleaming, resplendent in its racing green and the windows were so clean it looked like there wasn't any glass in them. I felt really happy and looked forward to a fantastic fortnight in the glorious Highlands.

I did a final check around the van and noticed that dad had left a wheel chock in place behind one of the rear tyres. I kicked it with my right foot but it didn't move. Nothing daunted, my next attempt was a real corker and the chock flew forwards out of the way.

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ttfn

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Unfortunately, the handbrake wasn't on and my foot stayed where it had made contact with the chock. As the van, parked on a slight rise, slowly moved backwards I tucked that very same foot behind the tyre. The van rolled on to my foot - and stayed there. Imagine me really close to the rear side of the van with my face about 6 inches from the metal panel and my foot firmly under the wheel. I had no way of calling attention, mobile phones had yet to be invented, and my arms could not grow the required 10 feet to reach the bell on the front door beyond which my parents were preparing for bedtime. I tried to move my foot to the left , to the right and then backwards. I was well and truly stuck.

As the acute pain hit me and a general feeling of numbness crept up my leg, I began to feel faint and nauseous. In those days I was far too shy to call out for help and the streets at night were quite silent.

The pain was really beginning to get to me after some 10 minutes and, in a very light-headed way, I imagined I could be attempting something rather special for the Guinness Book of Records. My pain threshold was exceeded and I thought I would pass out, but there was no room for my knees to buckle - I was so firmly positioned against the campervan. I just kept looking at my watch in the street light, whilst thinking how impressed Norris McWhirter would be when he heard of my feat.

ttfn

Question Author

Suddenly I could hear foot steps coming along the pavement. "Thank you, thank you" I thought. I cleared my throat and licked my lips in readiness to speak to my saviour. As the footsteps grew louder I turned my head and suddenly saw a stranger passing my house, not 4 feet from where I stood planted.

I opened my mouth to speak but he beat me to it, and said "Good evening" and smiled. I replied "Good evening".

And then he was gone, marching swiftly up the street. I still had my mouth open and wondered why I hadn't beseeched him to ring the doorbell? In any other situation I would have kicked myself but my left foot was otherwise occupied.

ttfn

Question Author

It was about another 10 minutes before my mother opened the front door and said to me "For goodness sake Vivien, leave the van alone and come to bed" - bless her, she only ever called me by my full name when she was displeased.

I whispered for her to call dad (mother had never learned to drive). She replied for me to speak up, but as you might imagine I found this to be rather a tall order. Dad eventually came outside but slowly viewed my predicament rather than immediately drive the van off my deflated foot.

Having hopped indoors inspection revealed a frogman's flipper, albeit a greyish-white flipper. A medicinal brandy was poured and then I soaked my offended limb in a bowl of warm water. At that stage I resisted the temptation to get the foot pump out. As some feeling slowly returned, I was able to move my toes - just a little. With difficulty I ascended the stairs and fell on to the bed. It only took a couple of hours before the pulsating feeling subsided. In the morning I strapped the foot up and put on my widest shoes. We set off, one hour behind schedule, and I got us to Scotland by nightfall.

I hardly have a limp at all these days but enjoy still a medicinal brandy.

THE END