Even good drivers can be bad drivers on occasion. The occasion that I was a bad driver was when I had arranged to visit a friend and stay for the weekend. I packed my car with my weekend bits and bobs, including my long furred gray and white tabby cat and set off down the highway.
It was a beautiful summers day and all of my worries floated away with the breeze as I sped down the side roads and along country lanes in my old, bright orange Skoda. My cat was enjoying the breeze through his fur and looked happy.
I got close to my destination on the outskirts of town, and came upon a sign that was to divert traffic. I could just about see where I was headed along the road I was already on. There were no blockages ahead. There were no workmen patching roads or leaning on their shovels. With no apparent reason for the diversion insight, I made the executive decision that I knew best and would stick to my current route.
Confident that I had made the right choice I rounded the corner to find myself behind some sort of float. Was it a milk float? At this time of day? I pondered this thought as I dipped my sunglasses further down my nose to get a proper look. It was then that I noticed in my rear view mirror that other floats had joined in behind me from a side road.
It became clear to me that I was now in a carnival procession and that there was no way out. I panicked and looked wildly around me for some assistance as we all headed for the main part of town, slowly, really slowly. Soon I could see people lining the streets ahead. A brass band with baton twirlers in red and white outfits appeared from no-where behind me. To my horror I found myself leading the band.
I put on my straw sun hat in the hope that no-one would recognize me as the cymbals crashed and the horns blew with glee. Streamers soon covered my Skoda in bright re, blues and green. Children laughed and cheered as my cat played with the streamers on the front seat and leaped around as though he had caught a mouse. People threw coins in through the windows and everyone waved. I waved back. I seemed to be getting away with it. I waved like the Queen of England out of the window and nodded occasionally.
Now if any of you reading this are thinking that you are good drivers beware. Learn from my mistake. One false move and you may end up in a carnival procession covered in streamers with a mad cat at your side, dodging pennies that threaten to hit you on the nose.
Learn more about this author, Bridget Webber.
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