Not just in the car park bay, of course, but when I had reversed out of the bay, and was at an angle that hemmed in about twelve cars. The car stalled, and then just wouldn't start (not the first time it's done it). And then the steering wheel immobiliser decided to do its thang, so that I couldn't push the car back into a bay. I was left with a straight line in which it would move, pushing it forwards when someone behind wanted to get out; backwards when someone in front wanted to.
And it was raining.
The nice AA man came eventually, and sorted out the starter motor, and off I went home... and had my lunch at 4pm. What a fun use of an afternoon... but it did restore my faith in mankind, as they say: at least half a dozen people stopped and offered to help me.
In Tesco I noticed that new regimes are being brought in about the Under 18 goods - cigarettes and alcohol and whatnot. Currently if the checkout person or shop owner thinks you look under 21, they'll check (it's wittily called Challenge 21 - or, as our local shop calls it, Challange 21). From Monday, they're check if you look under 25. As a 23 year old, I'm a little disgruntled. 25 is seven years over 18. That's over a third of an 18 year old's life that they're counting in as a margin of error. What would people say if 40 year olds were asked if they were senior citizens? I don't usually use this blog to whinge about things, but I thought my days of being ID-ed were over....
And finally, because this is a book blog after all, I've just read Faulkner
's interview with The Paris Review Interviews (in volume 2) - it's mostly nonsense, very pretentious and arrogant, but I did enjoy this exchange:INTERVIEWER: Some people say they can't understand your writing, even after they have read it two or three times. What approach would you suggest for them?
FAULKNER: Read it four times.
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