Up and down with knives

Lou gave me a mushroom knife for my birthday. Good present! It’s a little curved wooden number, very sharp, locks itself, has a tiny brush on the end. “Careful,” says John. “That might not be legal. You don’t want to get in trouble.”

A blade that locks itself and is over three inches long is illegal in the UK. We carefully measured it. It’s 2.8 inches. I was relieved to find out my little mycological geektool is legal.

I didn’t have it with me as I loaded a 30 inch sword and a 22 inch stiletto into my car today and blithely drove across the country. Thankfully nobody stopped me. It could’ve been tricky if they had, as the car is never one to instil confidence in the stable mental state of the owner. The temporary cardboard numberplate hasn’t washed off yet, although raindrops have made it look like art department have distressed it for use in a horror movie. The heatshield rattle is back in low gear, and the spring bangs loudly if you turn the wheel more than 45 degrees. The engine still runs marvellously. It’s just everything else that’s fucked.

Add to that the fact that I now have a new toy… “That’s how we get you,” I was told with a smile. I was watching an automobilia auction a few weeks ago and I got giddy and bought myself a vintage Rolls Royce chauffeur’s hat. It’s bloody marvelous. It’ll live in whatever car I’m driving as a statement of intent that one day I’ll have a car that fits the hat.

Meantime I might do one more shuttle to Yorkshire if there’s time and the things, but right now the idea gives me the chills. I’m done with driving for now. Another fucking 14 hour 500 mile round trip over two days. It’s still beautiful in Yorkshire, but I’m not sure it’s the most practical solution to use Tennant’s, especially since half of the car today was filled with a table that will likely not even cover the price of petrol. Bums.

I’m in Brighton again now. Calm by the sea. Tasty food incoming through the magic of Lou. Time out. Gonna relax. Up at 6 tomorrow to get back to London in time for dental hijinks. Oh the joy.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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