Toll Booth Injuries
I occasionally have to go through the toll booth on the M50. Like tonight, for example.
On the journey out I was fine - I went through a cashier lane, handed over the money, and drove on. All was good.
The journey back was a slightly different story.
I decided to go through the lane where you throw your fee into a bucket thingy.
I’m not very good at throwing. I throw like a girl. I know that I am a girl, so that’s going to be the case, but I mean that I really throw like a girl. Now, I’ve been stuck behind people who have missed the bucket throwing their coins over, and they’ve had to face the shame of getting out of the car and picking up the money while everyone behind is beeping at them.
I don’t ever want to be that person.
Approaching the booth I swerve to the right, to get the car as close as possible to the bucket, without actually scraping the car.
So far, so good.
I put the window down as far as I can go.
Everything’s going to plan.
I start with my arm held high, coins gripped loosely (so I don’t drop them, but so they don’t stick to my hand).
I bring my arm downwards rapidly, releasing the coins as I go.
I hit my hand on the basket.
It hurts.
I drive off, pretending everything is fine.
But your mother has negated her responsibilities - she is a PEteacher!
Comment by Elaine — March 5, 2006 @ 3:22 pm