The driving Gods seem to be testing my nerve and they also seem to be winning. The gig in Swindon went well, though the attendance was a little low
(almost the same as last year, which suggests that I have hit my Swindon ceiling) - interestingly no mail this year telling me off for doing a show questioning love. I am disappointed in you Christians. And so is Jesus. There was enough in to have a good time and the show continues to improve.
But although it was only 77 miles to home I almost wished I had stayed over in this concrete monstrosity. My sat nav refused to stick to the windscreen - infuriatingly seeming to adhere, even with a little test tug, but then just when I thought it was going to stay this time, surprising me by dropping off. Which was distracting. I don't know if it was the cold or if my sucky thing has lost its suck. But my nervousness at the wheel after this week's incident was not helped by this additional little jolt. Post gig I am useless at navigation, even with the sat nav to help and a massive weird roundabout of mini-roundabouts in the middle of the town didn't help me much. I had no idea how I was meant to get round them. The last time I had encountered such a thing I was
in Hemel Hempstead and filming "You Can Choose Your Friends". That time I was having trouble operating a manual car and was put off by the massive queues of traffic behind me, this time coming to the roundabouts alone was just as confusing. With no example to follow and feeling a bit flustered I hesitated and then moved at the wrong time. Luckily the driver approaching had noticed my confusion and stopped for me to go through. Perhaps the people of Swindon are used to strangers being bamboozled by this unnatural phenomenon. It was like being in the Crystal Maze. But one with no walls, in which you could die. I went the wrong way and got a bit lost and had to try and get my sat nav secure in my cup holder, which it really wasn't. In three days I have become the worst driver in the world. Which is strange because if anything the near accident should have convinced me of my proficiency - given the calm nature of my escape.
But now I am just constantly thinking about the fact that death can come at any second, which can be distracting.
Once out of town the drive became a lot easier, though as always with the drive home it felt impossibly long. Once I got into town I was going to fill up with petrol and buy a pint of milk, but when I turned off the Chiswick roundabout (a normal roundabout that is easy to use, you Swindon idiots) I started to sense something odd, though couldn't put my finger on it. Up by the garage a police car was sitting by the traffic lights and it was only as I got closer that I realised the traffic lights weren't working. I carried onwards, planning to drive into the garage. But all its lights were off too. I realised there had been a power cut. None of the street lights were on and all the houses were dark too. It was eerie driving through the dark in the centre of town and felt like something Apocalyptic had happened. Was it the end of the world?
A bin bag had blown into the road or been hit by a confused driver and the dark road was strewn with debris, which made it feel much more likely that a zombie would come lumbering out of the gloom. It was horribly cold and I hoped that all the people who lived here had gas central heating, but then I suddenly wondered if I was also going to get home to a completely dark house. My girlfriend is away this weekend, so it would be lonely and scary, but worst of all boring. No TV, limited laptop life, I wouldn't be able to wash my clothes. Fuck the people in Acton and Chiswick. Had the people of Shepherd's Bush been hit by this plague of the living dead.
I had to turn right on a busy road with no traffic lights. It was a little tough to negotiate, but I got through it. But I cursed the driving Gods for testing me so. Thankfully as I got further into Acton the lights were on. If there is ever a real Apocalypse the survivors are going to have a tough time. The world was once always this dark at night and one day it will be again. But I don't think I could cope very well at night, with no light and no heat. How the human race survived long enough to get to this point where we can see and keep warm in the winter nights I don't know. But I thank those generations of freezing and terrified people, huddling in their mud huts and caves for getting through it so we could live in such relatively safe luxury. And I apologise in advance to the future generations who will return to that nightmare thanks to my generation's selfish and thoughtless use of resources. But it's a false apology. I am delighted I don't have to live like you idiots. Mmmm, bright and toasty! In any case you won't be able to read this apology as electricity will cost a billion pounds a second. So fuck you future people and also fuck you people in the past who weren't even clever enough to read, let alone invent a computer. You are all experiencing abject misery so that I can live in slightly less abject misery. And I wouldn't trade places with you for the world.... unless you're able to beam places in the future. In which case I am happy to swap.
