I Gotta Get Out Of This Place!

During the conclusion of this morning's Power Breakfast, I was vaguely aware of someone reminding us to make sure we remember to "... something, something, blah, blah, blah parking ticket."

Since childhood, my response to such instructions as:  "Make sure you ... (What … Ever)", has been to drift into a temporary state of oblivion. The same happened to me today the result of which being that when I inserted my parking ticket, which had a hole punched in it to prove that I was a guest and therefore didn't have to pay, nothing happened.

I leaned over to press the "Contact The Car Park Offical" button and my ticket flew out of the car window. I had to reverse the car in order to get out and retrieve it but, before I got that far, "Car Park Official Guy" arrived in response to the loud, insistent beeping which the CTCPO button had set off.

I greeted him with: "My ticket isn't working for some reason. It's lying over there on the ground, would you please retrieve it for me?".

"There's nothing there", he said.

"It's right there!", I barked at him, impatiently. "Behind the parking meter".

"Ah, yes," he conceded, bent down, picked it up and came over to me.

"You know you were supposed to get it verified at the reception first", he said, looking at me sternly and with an air of unquestionable authority.

Only then did I remember having emerged from my temporary fit of oblivion and hearing: "... blah, blah, parking ticket, very important, don't forget!"

"Where are you from?" asked CPO Guy, his expression changing from one of sternness to comprehension and – did I detect a note of sympathy?

"Ah!" I said, laughing. "I'm British. We're all crazy. Brexit, you know!"

"Brexit!", he grinned, joining me in my merriment. "Brexit - no exit!"

"Genau!", I replied. "Can't exit because of Brexit!".

Then I asked him if I could wait for the car which was coming along behind, then shoot out under the barrier after it.

 "I don't usually succumb to criminal behaviour," I added hastily, "but I've always wanted to do this".

He nodded in agreement and I started to rev the motor. Then I realised that his nod had been a tilting of his head towards a "Special Ticket" which he was drawing out of his pocket.

To my disappointment, he inserted it into the slot and the barrier rose obligingly.

"What the hell", I thought. "At least I got off lightly". As I drove off, I shouted out to him:

"Thank you! May the Angels protect you!" 

I have no idea where that came from.

"And may God protect you, too!", he called out in return. 

"Now why would he say that?" I wondered as I sped off.

Epilogue: 

So much for God protecting me! That evening I got a ticket for parking in a No Parking spot. I caught the "Naughty-Parking" Official taking photos of my number plates.

"Hey!", I called out to him. "There's a charge for those photos!"

"Wot?" he growled at me.

"I don't give photos of my car away for free!", I riposted.

He vos not amuzed.