The Service – Part Two

I had spent the week foolishly believing that each time I unlocked my car, the door would open, and each time I had to walk around and shuffle across the passenger seat. If the battery in the key worked then my parade around the silver machine would be retired. I was making my return visit to last week’s scene, the scene where I parted with a large amount of cash that probably exceeded the value of the silver machine. The door was to be fixed, the rear windscreen wiper to be perked up and the new rear brakes fitted. At least today I knew what awaited me, I knew that there was no more money to be paid. In a non driving music cliché, Born in the USA was my album of choice, couldn’t get more blue-collar than mechanics, although these ones wore black. As classic British weather goes, it was grey, uncertain whether it wanted to rain or just envelop the land in a giant bland blanket.

I arrived and parked hidden away in the car park between the suit saloons and pretentious posers, a little challenge to the poor fool who had to drive my car into the garage, I never considered if they would even be able to get into my car as I handed my keys over. The same bloke from before was sat at the desk, I was informed it should only be a couple of hours, but they would phone me when it was done. I strolled out beneath the grey veil, now to kill time.

Unlike the previous week, I had no family member to provide my comic foil, I had no friend to aimlessly saunter around the shops with. This was my charade, played to an empty crowd. How could I possibly get bored in one of those sharply named retail parks? It was around 11am and I decided to look around a few shops before heading to the Sainsbury’s for lunch at 12. The first shop I went in, I was immediately offered a catalogue, which I clutched tightly. I meandered around, there were only so many electronic goods I could gaze through. My time-wasting was interrupted by a shop worker asking if I needed any help, I’m ok mate was my manly reply. Shortly after that sullen man strolled off another worker collared me, “Just looking thanks” was my honest reply. Feeling pressured I made my exit.

My second shop was next by name and nature. One of those fancy home variants which led to much staring at cushions, blankets, novelty candles and kitchen goods I saw no use in. I felt out-of-place surrounded by middle-aged women and tag along blokes. I left having covered both floors twice, yet my time-wasting had only eaten up 20 minutes. Another electrical and appliance shop was next in line. I saw TV screens in the new guise of being curved and offering even more detail, is seeing presenters nose hairs and dusty shoulders not detail enough? I was enjoying my freedom to read every little detail about the big range of washing machines when I was asked if I needed any help. Can’t a man browse in peace? I began to wonder if the general confused look on my face wasn’t helping. I checked my phone for the time, 20 minutes until lunch time, more worryingly though was the tiny amount of battery life it purposed to have.

The Sainsbury’s café was sparsely populated with suited men under the spell of a laptop and a batch of mothers with babies. I purchased a watered down soft drink and a cheese and ham baguette, with a caramel biscuit thing for after. I perched myself in the corner, for no reason other than I thought the seats looked comfier. Once sat down and munching on the lean hammed baguette it became all too clear that these seats were an illusion, this wasn’t thick cushion, just extra thick wood. I opened the catalogue and read my way through very slowly, I ate even slower, determined to beat my own record of still eating my school dinner, when lessons resumed, having been the first one in. Between the long reading spells I watched the people come and go in the café, the fish and chips looked like a mighty meal. I saw a whole meeting unfold, plenty of bullshit terminology spouted from men you suspect would normally be calling the referee a wanker during their Saturday serenades. The catalogue was good for fuelling Christmas gift ideas, mainly of what not to get.

I kept feeling phantom vibrations but nothing to lighten the day. I had occupied the chair for over an hour and with no sign of any news, I called the garage. “Working on it now, be a couple more hours yet”. Marvelous. I trudged out of Sainsbury’s feeling somewhat disappointed that I believed this would be a quick trip. I headed to the only place a man can in a time of woe and misery, Homebase. The store was dark and drab but with so much to look at, an excellent place to lose yourself. I looked at all the shades of paint, the deepest blue to the variations of whitest white, none of which would look the same on your self decorated wall. Falling for my manly intuition, I spent a long while looking at the power tools, I don’t even have any wood or masonry to drill yet there I was, captivated by their power output. Lawnmowers were more my thing, one appealed to me and in a Wayne’s World moment, it will be mine. I stepped back into reality, filtering through the toilet seats in my own variation of game of thrones. It seemed highly apt that the soft drink had then caught me up and I needed a toilet of my own. I left certain of the reason they have no signs up for where the toilets are…

Back in the real world and fresh air I hatched a plan. I would go and get myself another drink and a cake in one of those high street dominating shops. I ordered a hot a chocolate and a pack of shortbread biscuits and sat at a high table. My first action was picking an unsteady table, my second was placing my hot chocolate down and the third was kicking the table. Several napkins later I had mopped up a sizable portion of my drink. I sat down and stared out of the window at the darkening skies and elegantly dipped the biscuit into the hot chocolate, best plan I had conjured all day. Other people were reading books, enchanted by electrical goods or nattering amongst friends. I was emptying my wallet of receipts and deciding if anything needed keeping. By my fourth biscuit I had a small mound of receipts; my fat wallet had become streamlined. From my seat I could see a roundabout, I watched the cars go around; I had been there long enough to see some head into Sainsbury’s and head out again. In my desire to pass the time until the call, I had used my phone for hopeful internet searching and firing off texts to the also bored. My battery low warning was not welcomed, nor was my stupidity at ignoring it when the lights went out for good shortly after.

I finished my chocolate and headed back to Sainsbury’s. I was going to buy some food for my evening meal, some doughnuts to make up for the wasted day and some beer to wash it all away. I left the store with two bags, one filled with beer and chocolate, the other with burgers, pork pies and a chewy bone. The elderly woman on the checkout questioned my choices, “Having a party then?” “Just me and my dog.” I arrived back at the garage and found out my car would still be another half an hour. I asked if I could leave my shopping with them, my bottles clunking as I handed them over the desk.

Like history repeating itself, I was in Toys R Us again. I longed to be young again so I could happily buy some of the huge Lego sets. I was also confused by the different types of Lego, what happened to the good old pirates and soldiers? Too many film connections. Thankfully I wasn’t staying long and the demons of temptation could be kept at bay, I could also envisage the responses I would get at the garage if I had strolled back with a pirate ship. Back at the garage I was given the warning about the new brakes again and a general report. “The door was a bitch, but not as much as the rear wiper arm, that is what took us a lot of time, had to get several guys working on it to ensure it all got done today for you”. Unsure if he was trying to guilt me or not, I thanked him for his work. “See you again soon Mr Smith.” Putting my bags to the ground, I had to respond, “Well, hopefully not!!” “Yes, perhaps not the best phrase but you know what I mean.” We then engaged in a large chunk of inane babble before I turned my back on the place.

The door opened and in I went, the wrench sat beside me on the passenger seat. I started the beast up and turned on the rear wiper, to see it successfully go side to side and not drop down to boot cleaning was a moment of huge relief. I could now safely enter and exit my vehicle and see out of the back. Can you really put a price on safety? I headed home in rush hour, getting stuck in every queue going whilst Bruce was telling tales of American woe.

I sat on the sofa, beer in one hand, burger in the other. Stallone was on TV trying to act and the pooch was fast asleep. Outside the silver machine sat in the darkness, ready to shine again.