Had a cursory moment, oh, a good few months back now. It all started innocently enough. Tash and I had a couple of oven ready curries in the oven and we decided that it might be nice to have a few of those things, you know? Popadoms. Neither of us had any readies so I drove down to the BP garage to facilitate the HSBC cash point in the side of the shop. As usual the place was a veritable Lancashire Hotpot of cars and people, so I had to park up a little bit away from the cash dispensing machine.

As the curries were almost ready I was in somewhat of a rush. So, as soon as I was parked I jumped out of my seat, out of the car, and as I shut the door the tip of my left index finger got caught and was squashed like a tomato. It was akin to a Mr. Kipling cake of pain and started bleeding quite profusely. I then looked up only to discover the cash machine had a piece of white A4, sticky taped to it, with "out of order" written on it. I got in the car and hit the door with my good hand. I was annoyed at myself for being so stupid with my left index and the whole arrangement with that stupid BP petrol station. I then drove straight home extremely annoyed.

This wasn't the first time this year I'd mashed a finger in the car door, which made it all the more frustrating. The first incident was even worse and happened, you've guessed it, at that cursed BP petroleum patch. Tash was driving and our intention was to stop off to get some cash from that fucking useless cash point located at said station. Our plan was to go to a pub in Bletchingly and have some dinner. I got out of the car and managed to slam the door right on the tip of my right index finger (this time right, last time left). It got caught in the locking mechanism and I suppose I can count my lucky stars that it wasn't severed off. There was a sizable flap of skin and it looked critical as well as hurting like billy-o. I got back in the car and announced that I needed to go home immediately.

My remedy in both cases was to bandage the injury, hold my hand up on high and pump myself full of pain killers. On the earlier, more severe, occasion my sleep suffered as I couldn't easily prevent my damaged digit getting knocked. Plus, it hurt so much it made me feel decidedly nauseous and, well, quite queasy dear boy. It took a while to heal, I can tell you.