After clambering down from a small shabby-looking elephant I ambled over to the bananas where Joan was struggling with a familiar challenge.Ìý"What's a Kilogram in new money?" demanded my wife of thirty two years. There was no hint or pretence that she found my antics even mildly amusing. Perhaps sitting on a child's ride whilst it trumpeted "Nelly the Elephant" was pushing things a little. However, having just retired through ill-health, I was determined to enjoy my previously suppressed eccentricity to the full.Ìý So, joy of joys, the bigger-than-mega-super-store on a Saturday.Ìý It is an unwritten rule that if you are lucky enough to be able to choose any given day to food shop, you must do so at the weekend.Ìý This annoys the hell out of those working Monday to Friday and the fun can be hugely enhanced by straddling a congested aisle with an empty trolley and chatting endlessly to 'anybody who knows me' about Mrs Wotsit and her new 'fellar' fromÌýEast Grindstead. Still, I was now on my best behaviour and resisted the temptation to place a small carrot behind my left ear. Nearly an hour and ninety three pounds twenty one pence later, we made for the exit, where I politely declined to save a whale.ÌýThere wouldn't be enough room in the freezer and, besides, it wasn't even a two for one offer! We loaded the car and I reversed out of the parking space and headed home. Beeeep!! Beeeep!! Lights flashing, a white van Neanderthal man gesticulated through my rear window. Did I cut out in front of him?Ìý If so, he must have been travelling far too fast. Now, I'm normally a very tolerant driver but my new self swiftly raised two digits in the air and saluted in the tradition of Agincourt. I drove on. "You oughtn't 'ave done that" were the supporting words of my beloved. A couple of streets later the white van was still following. I became agitated. Two more minutes passed and he was closing in, headlights blazing once more.ÌýThe menace grew. Again, "You oughtn't 'ave done that". Road rage is a modern phenomenon. In days of old, overtaking a doddery grey mare on the inside would result in a friendly cry of "God speed". Nowadays, in less than extreme cases, you could be dragged from your car and buried up to your neck in a pile of yak's excrement - head first of course. Modern road users do not like to be messed with and I feared I had just booked an appointment with a rather large and messy Tibetan ox.Ìý I decided it was time for evasive action and, at a set of traffic lights, slowed down just enough to make sure I could then race through whilst amber turned to red.Ìý In relief I think I did say "Jeez", and somewhere a camera clicked.ÌýStill, success! The white van was forced to stop and I proceeded to twist and turn down a labyrinth of small streets before heading out of town on a narrow country lane.ÌýI was perhaps travelling a little too fast but wasn't prepared for the bemused black bull that stood in our path, sideways on.Ìý Ever played chicken with a bull?ÌýDon't.ÌýIt didn't even flinch.ÌýIf this was America, I'd have been driving a big four wheeled truck, maintained my course and eaten road kill for the next 6 months.ÌýInstead, I performed an alternative 'over steer' and careered into a ditch.Ìý"You oughtn't 'ave done that".ÌýGosh, really? Well, knock me down with a baguette and call me Daphne! Joan was hospitalised with a broken leg and our old banger written off.Ìý The kind traveller that helped pull the car out of the ditch briefly restored my faith in humanity until I realised he had taken Joan's purse and mobile phone in payment.ÌýTo be fair, he treated me to some brandy for my nerves but, by doing so, inadvertently helped the police meet their targets when they arrived at the scene to tut-tut and breathalyse me. Back home, I reflected on the cost of my foolish gesture.ÌýWife in hospital, speeding ticket, car written off, possible drink drive offence, money, credit cards and mobile stolen.Ìý What’s more, most of the shopping was lost.ÌýAnd then there was an impatient knock...knock...knock at the door. I could see a white van parked outside the house.Ìý Nervously, I dropped the latch and confronted my adversary. Before I could say anything, the white van Neanderthal man beamed and handed me a long thin packet of smoked salmon.Ìý"Hi mate, you left this in your trolley". "Ugh" was my perfectly inadequate response. "Didn't think I'd see you again but I'm workin' at number 33 an' recognised what's left of yer car.ÌýI did try catchin' up with you y'know. How d'ya write that off then?" Clearly, this latter day Samaritan was salt of the earth and I'd totally misjudged the situation.ÌýDid I invite him in for a coffee, offer my undying gratitude or pledge my eldest daughter's hand in marriage?ÌýNo.ÌýI uttered an expletive suggesting his mother was unwed at his conception and then, reader, I hit him. IÌý oughtn't 'ave done that. | 
