It pissed down on Wednesday. I mean really pissed down. I had been in London buying myself a new toy (a Macbook) and upon arrival back at Slough train station, the heavens opened. They say it rains when God is crying, well clearly one of the angels had just told him that James Blunt has released a second album. The downpour was not quite to the level of John Betjeman’s bombs, but it made Slough even more unpleasant than it is normally (which is distinctly unpleasant, for the uninitiated).

As I waited for the torrential rain to stop (so I could walk my new Mac back to my car without getting it wet), I watched people come and go. People in the rain are funny, especially when the rain is so hard and the winds so high that even those with unmbrellas were getting piss wet through. Some people say they could watch heavy rain for hours. I could watch fuckwits in the rain for days.

After about ten minutes there was a break in the weather so I decided to make my way to my car. I was parked in the overflow car park, so I had a brief walk before I could get my new Mac into the safety of the boot of my car. I wandered towards the overflow car park down the narrow road, enclosed by a fence on one side, and a small embankment on the other. I had reached about halfway when I noticed her.

She was driving a silver golf, rather quickly, and directly at me. Now, in normal circumstances I would simply step aside and let her drive past. However, the inclement conditions had created Berkshire’s first great lake on her side of the road. And it appeared she had not seen it.

At times like this millions of years of evolution have granted us an excellent fight or flight response. Fortunately, I had long enough to decide not to try and fight a VW Golf. So flight it was.

I looked at the fence to the right, which led directly to the live train tracks, and then to my left, which offered a muddy, and extremely slippy embankment. I was left with no option but to behave like any other rational person would in this situation.

I began frantically waving at the woman, whilst also pointing at the massive puddle on her side of the narrow road that she was about to reach. Like just about every stereotype you care to mention, she was utterly oblivious to my plight. As her car began to enter the puddle my protective instinct kicked in and I pulled my Mac close to my chest and turned my back to the car to protect it from the elements. Much like you would for a small child. Unless you didn’t know them, in which case you would watch them get wet them write a hilarious blog post about it.

The puddle struck me as if someone has emptied a bucket in my direction. The expletives came freely and loudly. It left me with drenched jeans and coat, and as the icy water began to run down my neck I turned in the direction of the car as it made its way towards the end of the puddle.

Fortunately, she had now realised she was in rather deep water and so had slowed down to prevent any permanent damage to her car. It was at this point that she noticed what she had done, as the wall of water had clearly concealed me as she drove past. She held up a hand in my direction in acknowledgment of her complete and utter fuckwittedness, and I held up one finger in her direction to signal my agreement in her assessment of the situation.

I trudged back to my car and spent the next seven hours playing with my new toy.

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