Traffic jams are beasts. We’re stuck somewhere in the Midlands and the M42 is laughing at us. Loudly. We’re bumper to bumper. We’ve got the same songs on repeat. Accelerate, brake, drive, repeat. Lad’s new work car has either radio or iPod connections but absolutely no CD player. “It’s how all the newer models are made”. Wtf! Bring back cassette players or CDs please otherwise we’ll have to resort to serenading each other all the way back to Sheffield. The thought is tragic. I’ve only got about 20 songs on my mobile so the shuffle via Bluetooth is short lived. We’ve heard enough of Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ and we’ve had to resort to car games. God help us.
Attempting to pass the time, me and Ordinary Lad play the ‘Guess who I’m thinking of’ game. My strategy is to try and be unpredictable. Not that I care who wins. Yeah right. Usually, I’d pick authors and he’d pick sports people. I’ve gone for David Hassleoff to throw him off – except that, other than his stint on Baywatch, I don’t actually know much about him so I can’t answer accurately. When you’re asked a closed question and the answer is simply yes or no, then “erm, I don’t know” makes you look a bit foolish. I knew I should’ve gone for Shakespeare.
We’re overtaken by a speeding car. I’m suspicious of this Volkswagen Golf with blue flashing lights. We move because we’re sure it’s unmarked police on a mission. My imagination runs wild and I’m soon picturing some sly guy using his illegal blue lights just to get further down the line. It’s all a conspiracy, you see? Perhaps he purchased them just to skip traffic jams. Lucky sod. Why didn’t we think of that?
Curiosity gets the better of us and we decide to use my Iphone to look on the Highways Agency website for the down low. An alert pops up, informing us of a 2-lane closure for the next 30 minutes due to a road traffic collision. The Rubberneckers ought to be ashamed of themselves – Hang on a minute, while I stop writing this blog just to check out the action on the hard shoulder…A smashed front bumper? oof.
We pass the aftermath of the accident and Lad manoeuvres into 3rd gear for the first time in forever. It feels like we’re flying now. It’s nearing rush hour and the possibility of getting stuck again steadily increases. I just hope my weak bladder doesn’t cause us another inconvenience. The empty polystyrene cup is beginning to look like a necessity.
The weather is getting worse as we head up M1 north, now that we’ve left the sunny, delightful Welsh scenery behind. The dull weather suits our mood; the traffic jams and the anticipation of the pile of washing await us when we unpack back at home. Still, I’m remembering a glimpse of us on a small boat in Cardiff Bay yesterday and our cocktails by the sea reminds me that the traffic jam is all worth it. We’ve been making memories.
Now, which celebrity can I think of, to throw him off so that I can be crowned the champion of our car game? It’s not about taking part; it’s about winning.