Women Drivers!

PLENTY MORE FISH



Five fifteen! I grab my car keys and head for my slightly battered Ford Mondeo which costs me a fortune in petrol. Even this car holds memories a screwed up drinks carton HE left in here just last week when I picked him up from work. An empty crisp packet, a Rolo’s wrapper….I imagine he saved the last one for HER. Don’t be silly Natasha he’s too tight to save or share anything with anyone. It just isn’t in his nature he once threw a tantrum because I ate some of his Maltesers I mean how pathetic and how…. bloody scrooge!….. Why is it that that people use cars as dustbins anyway? Is it too much of an effort to carry out your rubbish when you leave the car?…obviously. I mean even the sides of roads you know the grass verges are covered in litter and moan moan moan…. Oh no its starting I am becoming a bitter shrew, I’m becoming Mrs Haversham from Great Expectations (never have those they are doomed to fail)…..cobwebs will drape across the flat the coffee ring mark will remain on the table where my lost love once sat his cup. Candles eerily flickering in the gloom above the shrine of Athletes Foot powder he left in the bathroom cabinet his photo lovingly taped to it…My God! Something has to happen tonight to save me from this fate. Otherwise I will be that sour faced old hag who everybody hates glaring out of a window smeared with battery hens best offerings. Fingers twitching curtains festooned with cat hairs and muttering that I hate people while clacking my false teeth…….BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

I am rudely jolted out of my reverie by the irritating blare of a horn. I glance to the right and notice an enraged fat man gesticulating wildly and yelling all of eight chins quivering …He is …he is actually sticking his fingers up in a stubby V sign at me. He gestures for me to pull over and stupidly I do…..And there is that feeling of dread as I watch him slam his car door and come thundering towards me. I nervously roll down the window desperately trying to remember where the hell I had put the steering lock this could turn nasty. Maybe…maybe this is it..the end for me I can see the headlines now

A BODY OF A WOMAN WAS DISCOVERED TODAY BY THE SIDE OF A ROAD VICIOUSLY STABBED FORTY TIMES. ALONGSIDE A FAT MAN WITH A STEERING LOCK IMBEDDED IN HIS HEAD. AN EXTREME CASE OF ROAD RAGE! AS THE WOMAN LAY DYING HER LAST DELIRIOUS WORDS WERE ‘TAKE ME TO THE BLUE DRAGON TONIGHT MRS HAVERSHAM!’ A TRAGIC EXAMPLE OF SOCIETY TODAY MAY THIS BE A LESSON FOR US ALL!

‘DO you know that you almost KILLED ME?’ Well?…’BLOODY WOMEN DRIVERS!!’ The voice of lard and reason rants his spittle spraying my face. The red neon face glowing before me like a bludgeoned moon. The sweat trickles down his cheeks as he struggles to catch his breath from the sheer effort it took for him to multitask that is bellow and waddle from his car to me. I can imagine the tyres of his car groaning with relief ‘there is a rubber god they wheeze…..‘YOU’RE A DANGER YOU ARE! SHOULDN’T EVEN BE ON THE ROAD IF I WERE YOU I WOULD INVEST IN A GOOD THICK PAIR OF GLASSES…’ I snap the strain of the last two days has finally caught up with me and I bawl back at him…’AND MAYBE YOU SHOULD TAKE A TRIP TO SLIMMING WORLD THAT’S IF THEY CAN FIT YOU IN YOU FAT BLOB OF DOUGH OR…OR TRY WALKING THOSE ROLLS OFF’ I screech my chest heaving with emotion.

I’m screaming and god help me I can’t stop he backs away still blustering and hissing like a punctured bladder. I can feel the adrenaline of victory within my grasp. I get out of the car brandishing the steering lock like a sword. His eyes widen with fear and he runs as fast as 30 stones can retreating to his car the wheel arches scraping the floor as in a panic he throws his bulk inside. All the fight drains out of me, I’ve even scared myself. I slip slowly into the drivers seat shaking and breathing heavily and rest my forehead on the steering wheel. Laughter bubbles up in my throat as a flashback of the fat man wobbling like an outraged jelly towards his car springs into my mind.


I’m not insane, just a woman betrayed a woman who loves a man and wants him back. A desperate woman suffering from heartbreak and maybe as I pull up tonight outside my empty flat, men in white coats will ambush me from the bushes because a dangerous woman like me is on the loose. Verity throws open her door and envelopes me in a big hug ‘Oh you poor thing what a bastard, I thought you two were forever, I can’t believe it…’ I tune out horrible I know but I don’t want to cry and yet a lump is forming in my throat. I just don’t want to hear it those seven inevitable fucking words ‘There’s plenty more fish in the sea!’ Well why the bloody hell do I find all the piranhas then? what do you say when you find a new man? ‘ooh I’ve found myself a cracking haddock and what could I say that boring Trevor is my date for tonight..a kipper!
‘Earth to Natasha, Verity calling HELLO?’ Verity is waving her hand in front of my face. ‘I’m sorry Vez..b..b..bbut’ and that’s it I cry anyway for what seems like ages. In between sobbing and snivelling I manage to tell her everything. Balls of used tissue are littered around me one in my hand which I’m clinging to for grim death. I have now got that mysterious cold that you always seem to get after a good crying session. Verity is patting my back dabbing at my now red bulbous nose. I’m trembling, drawing ragged breaths and looking through bleary eyes.

‘So Chris finished with you in a café? Niiiiice!’
‘Well he said that he needed some space..’
‘Space what for?’ Verity snorts ‘So he can shag that stupid bitch? AND he has the cheek to ask if he can pick up his jacket well I tell you what I would do with that jacket…’ She rants. Yes I do know what she would do not a woman to be trifled with Verity. She once thought her boyfriend Karl was cheating on her so she poured paint stripper all over his car, smashed his headlights and had one of the tow truck drivers tow it all the way to Newcastle. All poor Karl had done was give a friends girlfriend a lift to work for a couple of days while her car was being fixed in the garage. Verity must have felt quite sick with all the humble pie she had to have eaten.

Verity is having one of her famous tirades…..

‘…..and TREVOR, why Trevor? What are you DOING? Where’s your pride? Tash I love you to death but I can’t let you DO this…please Tash think about what you are doing?’
Verity is kneeling in front of me, staring beseechingly into my face, her hands clasping mine. She is getting on my nerves!
‘Look I never asked for your opinion, I will do what the HELL I want…I’m not you and I’m certainly not strong, I’m weak….and I just don’t want to be alone ALRIGHT!!! I Yell.
‘But you’ve got me and there’s plenty more..’
‘DON’T SAY IT’ I snarl, my eyes blazing.
‘Your not weak you know, your just afraid because…because whatever you and Chris built together has crumbled and lets face it the foundations have been pretty shaky for a long while’ Verity reasons in an annoyingly soothing voice.
‘Okay Miss Philosophy Lama fucking Buddha whatever what DO you suggest I do spend the rest of my life hating myself because I’m a failure?’
‘No, not at all, but I’m your MATE FOR GOD’S SAKE! Verity explodes her arms erratically flapping around in the air ‘and I don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself’
I suddenly feel contrite, Why am I taking my shit out on Verity she is the best friend anybody could have!
‘I’m so sorry Vez, I don’t mean to…’
‘I know babes your just hurt and angry’ she soothes ‘ and hey that’s what best friends are for right and I guess I forgot that you don’t like being told what to do’
We hug each other and she grabs my hand dragging me into her bedroom and plonking me on the bed.
‘Sit here a minute I’ll just get us a drink and then I’ll clean you up okay Cinderella?’ I nod my head.
‘Back in a mo!’ She hurries from the room.

There are dolls everywhere! Verity has a passion for dolls from all around the globe personally I find them creepy I feel like I have an audience…..
AND TONIGHT LIVE ON STAGE WE HAVE POOR OLD DUMPED NATASHA WHO WILL BE JOINING YOU SHORTLY AND TAKING HER PLACE ON THE SHELF…RIGHT BESIDE YOU ISN’T SHE LUCKY? CAN WE HAVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE AND A BIG WELCOME PLEASE! NATASHA STEP UP HERE I’VE GOT A LOVELY KNITTED HAT AND A PINK FRILLY DRESS FOR YOU TO WEAR!….
A loud crash erupts from the kitchen and a sound of breaking grass followed by an equally loud expletive from verity ‘SHIT, SHIT SHIIIIIIIIIT!’
‘What’s happened?’ I ask in a weird croaky old crone voice.
‘My last BLOODY bottle of wine is what, stupid cork nearly took my eye out!’ She complains sweeping noises drifting from the kitchen.
‘You’ll have to make do with a cup of tea’ She yells.
‘Er…yeah fine no problem!’
Tea! it’s the cure all for everything and we all know it. Its not that I have an aversion to it, it just seems to symbolise a crisis. If I tell my mother that Chris and I have split up she will just say ‘I’ll just put the kettle on love! And bustle into the kitchen. Its traditional in most families your whole life is falling apart and your guaranteed a good old cup of tea god bless Tetley’s.