Not A Good Day!

How did I get myself in this mess? He thought in disbelief.  Is Friday 13^th really this unlucky?

He peered through the steamed panes of the telephone kiosk.  The rain thundering down the outside glass ran in both small rivulets and huge torrents almost blocking out his view.  He could make out dark shapes of …………. policemen?  But why were they surrounding him in crouched positions, pointing guns at him?

Well, he thought they were guns, although he couldn’t really make them out – he was just assuming that by their body language.

“Put your hands up where we can see them and STAY WHERE YOU ARE” barked the shape nearest to him.”  The command took him by surprise and he thrust his hands up into the air wishing he could get out of the cramped enclosure.

He noticed that two of the lower panes were broken, hence why his trouser leg on that side was stuck to him more than the other.  He bent down, still holding his hands high, and shouted through the small empty squares “I’m stuck, aren’t you here to get me out?”.

“We were told it was a hostage situation” came the answer.  He couldn’t believe his ears “What are you talking about?  The only thing holding anyone hostage is my wretched bike and I’m the victim”.

The police on the outside moved away to regroup and presumably discuss their next course of action.  This gave him a moment to reflect on to how this had all come about.  It must have been a combination of Friday 13^th (as his wife had reminded him as soon as he opened his eyes that morning) and this wretched heatwave.  The latter being responsible for the pouring rain, humidity and steamed up glass.

He wasn’t a superstitious man but, thinking about it, the day hadn’t started well at all.  The alarm hadn’t gone off which meant that he was rushed from the moment he got out of bed. He’d gulped down his breakfast, plonked a quick kiss on his wife’s check and flown out of the door.  He’d started the car up and driven out of the drive as he did every morning, though today it was just a tad faster.  So, his lateness and the fact that the local bus was five minutes early, meant that they met each other sideways on – well his car met the side of the bus head on.  Not a good start.

By the time it was all sorted the bus was able to continue its journey as the damage was only superficial.  His car was another matter.  The headlights were smashed, and the bonnet crumpled.  It couldn’t be driven anywhere.  By this time his wife had got her lift to work so it was left up to him to arrange for the garage to come and collect the car.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t a courtesy car available for his use, so he decided he’d just have to bike the five miles to work.  After all he was such a reliable employee, always on time he was sure they wouldn’t begrudge him a couple of hours or so through no (?) fault of his own!e started the car up and drove out his hHe

In some ways the bike felt refreshing.  The air was already hot, sticky and humid.  Fortunately, there were no big hills to negotiate and the breeze, warm as it was, felt good against his face.  The clouds looked so threatening and he just hoped the coming storm would wait until he had accomplished his journey.

Thankfully he made it to work by late morning arriving safe and dry despite the ominous clouds.

“Glad you made it Bob”, said the foreman, “it seems Friday 13^th is playing with us today as we’re already one man down”

“Oh dear, what happened?” he asked.

“Well it was all through a bit of stupidity really”. Came the reply.  “John and Henry were both driving the forklifts when they each thought they’d go and pick up the last pallet from the warehouse.  I saw it all happen from the gallery.  There was a very large open area with just the pallet in the middle.  They each approached from opposite directions but when it looked as if John was going to get there first, Henry gave up and just started spinning round on the spot.  Unfortunately, the machine suddenly seemed to have a mind of its own and spun so fast and so hard that it spewed him out at full force tossing him across the floor and throwing him right up against the pallet.  He was winded for a bit but he’s ok now.  Henry got there from the other side, shouted “Bull’s eye” and moved away with the pallet.

That sounded grim, Bob thought as he made his way down the metal steps.  Suddenly he nearly jumped out of his skin as the mother of all storms took hold.  The air was so thick and humid he felt he could cut it with a knife.  Even walking down the steps made him sweat profusely.  The lightning flashed, and the thunder roared…………….and all the electricity went on the blink.  Machinery stopped and started at will.  Lights flashed on and off.  The machines in the office didn’t know whether they were coming or going, let alone the people who were in the process of using them!

It was mayhem.  It seemed as if all the inanimate objects were rebelling. But, in reality, human error was still to blame.  He watched through the metal rungs as, below him, Mike was moving a very large heavy machine on, what looked like, a jumped-up sack barrow!  It did just cross Bob’s mind that the load looked a bit too far forward but, before he had time to act, it was all over.  The surprise for Mike was so swift that, before he knew what was happening, the whole thing toppled forward, crashing to the floor and breaking up.  He felt the whiplash as, still hanging on to the T shaped handle, he was lifted into the air and catapulted over the top of the whole pile, landing flat on the floor and knocking himself out.  The ambulance was duly summoned, and he was stretchered away.

Apart from the storm controlling the electricity, for Bob, the next few hours were uneventful.  That is until he heard shouting and screaming coming from the loading bay.  Was this yet another driver error or was it a rogue machine?  By the time he got there it was all over bar the shouting – literally!  A large truck was sitting a few feet away from the concrete platform used for loading.  A forklift was wedged at 45 degrees with its back against the platform wall and its forks resting on the inside of the trailer.  Apparently just as the forklift driver had moved forward with his load the lorry driver, who hadn’t seen him, suddenly jerked the vehicle forward taking away the “solid ground” literally from beneath the forklift.  Other workers nearby managed to stop the driver with their shouting, so nobody was hurt except the fork lift driver who was left dangling.

So the day came to a close.  Bob got on his bike to tackle the five miles home.  He’d gone about a mile when the rains came – and boy did they come!  His waterproofs were not strong enough and he was soon extremely wet – inside from the humidity and outside from the rain.  That’s when it happened.  A blinding flash that made him jump.  He lost his balance and plunged into the roadside ditch.  Large blackberry brambles met him full in the face and nettles stung his naked hands.  God, he thought, that was close – just as well there wasn’t a car behind me!  He scrambled to his feet and, pulling the bike up behind him, quickly remounted to continue his journey.  A few wheel turns later and he was acutely aware he had a very flat front tyre.

He knew that the next village, about a mile away, had a telephone box that he could stop at to phone home.  His wife couldn’t come and get him as they had no car, but at least he could warn her he would be late home.  He saw the lit telephone kiosk when he rounded the bend some time later.  The rain had been stinging his eyes so seeing was not easy.  He had not been passed by a single car – everybody else had the sense to stay indoors in this warm, filthy weather, he thought.

He leant his bike up again the glass panels and, on opening the door of the telephone box, felt he had reached a sanctuary that, give or take was mainly dry. The buffeting wind and driving rain was slightly hushed as opposed to the roar it was making outside.  He felt in his trouser pocket for some change – none.  He rummaged in every pocket he could find and still didn’t have any luck.  Bugger!  His patience was really being tested now!

Suddenly he noticed something shiny on the floor.  Ah a twenty-piece coin – thank the Lord that would at least mean he could contact Janet – albeit very quickly.  His home phone rang and rang and rang.  He realised she must be stuck in front of her favourite tv programme and was just beginning to give up hope when she answered.  Must be a commercial break, he thought wryly.  “Hello”. She said.  “Hi, I’ve got a prob………..” but before he had time to finish she shouted, “ok I’ll keep your dinner warm” and put the phone down.

At this point he really lost it.  It had been such a bloody awful day.  He banged the receiver down many times on its cradle until he realised that the vibrations were affecting the whole box.  Amidst the shuddering, the bike decided to break loose and slipped.  It wedged itself against the door so solidly that he had no possible chance of escape.  It was at this point that he sank to his knees with his head in his hands.  His salty tears of frustration mingling with the fresh rainwater that was already covering his face.   999 became his only option.

Outside movement and the sound of the bike being pulled away from its wedging position brought him back to the present.  The door swung open and he was confronted by several soaking policemen laughing at him.  “Well we thought it was funny to pretend it was a hostage situation”, one of them laughed.  “We needed some light relief after this shitty day that’s just been sucking the life out of us.  But the look on your face made it all worthwhile – it was priceless!”.

The profanities that then emanated from Bob’s mouth, towards the men before him, are not necessary to repeat.  Needless to say, the police weren’t impressed and drove, off leaving him to cool down and find his own way home.  By this time Bob was so fed up with his bike that he decided to leave it there, locked to the metal frame between the two empty panes.  He’d come back for it another time.

When he finally got home absolutely soaked to the skin – more wet than he had EVER been in his life (with clothes on) he stripped off, had a warm shower, ate his dinner and just about had the energy to climb upstairs to bed.  Janet was already there fast asleep, totally oblivious to his presence.

It was nearly midnight when he climbed wearily into bed, to enjoy the feeling of lovely clean sheets against his nettled hands and the softness of his wife’s slumbering body next to his.  Suddenly the largest bolt of lightning, combined with the most enormous clap of thunder, frightened the lives out of them both, bringing about the realisation that the storm was now directly overhead.  “I’ll be glad when today is over Jan,” he said to his, now awake, other-half.

They were the last words he spoke, and she heard, as the lightning struck the large oak tree in the garden bringing it crashing down on their once beautiful, solid house.  Yes, their day was definitely over.