Picture this. We're driving south under a clear blue sky, radio on in the background, and the temperature a pleasant 24 degrees. We're heading to our next camp-site at Ametlla de Mar. We've been before and it's one of our favourites. We were minding our own business playing a game I invented called..... well, it doesn't have a name so for the sake of this piece I'll call it, 'Why I'm a pants business man. The idea is simple, you give reasons why you went bankrupt.
Here's a few examples.
I started a Not For Profit' business. I was broke in three months.
I owned a map making company but it was going nowhere.
I had a balloon company till it went bust.
I used to own a cardboard box business till the bottom dropped out of it.
I had a lawn sprinkler firm till the customers dried up.
I started selling dead clowns to cannibals, but they thought they tasted funny.
I promise you, I could go on... but you get the picture. It's a bit of daftness. It passes the time, exercises the brain and every so often you'll think of corker which will make you laugh. Trust me. I've being playing it a long time.
Anyhoo. About then a black sedan suddenly pulls alongside. The male passenger frantically points to the rear of the caravan looking concerned. I back off the throttle and look into the rear view mirrors. I see nothing. He continues to gesture wildly. I look again. Still nothing. He then speeds up, pulls in front of me, puts on his hazard warning lights and gestures me to pull over to the hand shoulder. Odd, a thousand cars have passed us in the last hour and nobody has given us a second glance. The car is driving well. No flames are coming out the caravan roof - always a good sign- so fuck em. He can pull into the hard shoulder all he likes, which he does, but I ain't about to.
This is a known ploy. They're out to rob us. They pull onto the hard shoulder with the hapless concerned caravanner eager to investigate the problem, and then get robbed.
I should say, we've been doing this for over five years and have had no problems of any kind. People have only ever wanted to help where possible, that's the default position nature preprogrammed us with, sadly, a few ne'er-do-wells, are out to cause us grief.
As he slowed and moved onto the hard shoulder I sailed past giving him, and the driver, the finger! At that point he put his foot down, shot off down the motorway and disappeared. We decided if we came across a caravan, up ahead, that they'd stopped, we'd stop. I told Haze, “I'd kick one of them extremely hard in the goolies”. She replied, “And I'll bash up the other one”. How sweet? The last time I heard someone use the term 'bash up' I was at school.
Of course, if my life was a musical. I could challenge the villains to a motorway dance off.
“Hey, let's dance! winner takes all” (Cue Music) I got some cool moves. I once wanted to start a dance school but I couldn't find a business partner.