Never Kick Up A Fuss

 It looks like an innocent little country lane, doesn't it? I have walked down it tens of times over the years with no shocking consequences. I love it. It is where I sing out and nobody can hear me practice with the Choir Master's Voice Files. 

But yesterday, it didn't feel innocent or little anymore. I felt little. And certainly I am little when compared with a dark gray sedan only a year or two old. 

I was walking along when I sensed a car approaching from behind. Every walker/runner knows what to do in those cases. You squidge to the side of the road or lane, and get as far back from the car as possible while they pass. This, I did. I knew the game. But perhaps my strange driver didn't, and suddenly I felt the left rear tire GOING OVER MY TOES! 

I screamed and the car stopped. The man got out and said, "What happened?" 

"You ran over my toes!" I said with some heat.

"Let's have a look," he replied. So I took off my socks and shoes and we peered down at the poor little things.

"Does it hurt?" he ventured.

"Yes!" 

As I put the socks and shoes back on, the man said "You really shouldn't be walking on lanes, you know?"

I found this ridiculous. Everyone walks 'on lanes', and can walk on lanes. The lanes were there long before cars were, and there are laws about letting people walk on them.

I will now draw a veil over the fact that I did not speak up for myself, and did not make a fuss. I had been brought up to not kick up fusses, and besides I was in a state of shock, and watched the man drive away. A good Samaritan came by and showed me where the Stennack Surgery was. Then:

*I was told at the surgery that I should go to the Penzance ER for an x-ray. When I told the nurse about the man driving away, she called him a negative word.

*My good friend collected me and drove me to Penzance. 

*My phone battery died, leaving me cut off from humanity

*No one at the hospital would help me charge my phone. They all asked me if I had brought my battery charger. To which the answer was, No.

*I had the x-ray.

* It showed no injury or breakage. 

*I was released. 

*A member of the Mousehole Male Voice Choir who works at the hospital saw me and asked what had happened. 

*I told him.

*He was kind enough to give me a ride to the Penzance railway station. 

And that, I think, is the end of the story. But what do you think of this idea: Maybe they have CCTV out on that country lane. The Brits are awesome on television with their CCTV and I always wonder how crooks are ever able to successfully rob, cheat, or steal anything at all, with CCTV staring at them the entire time. Maybe I should ask. 

*(whom should I ask?)

See you along the way!

the SconeLady