How not to spend a Bank Holiday

Some toerag drove in to my father-in-law’s car just after midnight yesterday morning. I heard a loud bang and jumped out of bed, hoping I might see something. Unfortunately, I was looking out of the back window, not realising at this point quite what had happened.

A few minutes later my neighbours knocked on the door and pointed us in the right direction. Is there any chance of finding the culprit? Not really. There are a lot of black cars in this city, possibly not quite so many with a missing bumper.

Instead of going to Bolton Abbey for the day, we waited for the recovery vehicle, who had no intention of driving down to Staffordshire on a Bank Holiday, so I had to drive the 130-mile round trip.

Of course, there wasn’t a single traffic copper to be seen. I’m one of those people who supports speed cameras but I do wonder who is supposed to be catching the drunk, the unlicensed and those who leave their bumpers in my in-laws’ car.

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