.. to me on the way back from the nail salon yesterday.
Well, strictly speaking, not on the way back, but as I got into my car.
I had parked in a ‘You can only park here until 5pm’ space. Normally this would have been fine, as I’d arrived at 4pm and the nail thing generally takes less than an hour. But yesterday the nice Korean lady who usually does my nails wasn’t there. As an aside, I know she’s Korean because the last time I was there, a flustered looking guy rushed in from the tattoo studio next door and yelled “Quick! How do I do ‘Peace and Love’ in Japanese?” to which the nice lady had said (in a lovely cockney accent) “I don’t bloody know – I’m Korean, you pillock!”.
Anyway, she wasn’t there, and her nice husband was running the show. He does just as good a job of the nails as she does, but when it comes to doing the artistic pattern-y bits he’s a bit on the slow side, with the result that I didn’t leave the nail salon until about ten past five.
Congratulations to Bristol City Council though, your traffic wardens are top-notch! Yes, there it was, the damning yellow plastic sleeve attached to the windscreen – the 2010 equivalent of Noel Edmunds leaping out from behind a fake moustache and shouting ‘Gotcha’.
That’s not the funny thing that happened, though. The funny thing that happened was that when I opened the car door, there was a single (plastic) rose on the drivers seat with a note that said ‘I love you’. Inside a locked car, with all the windows closed.
Cue ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ theme tune…