Gallantry is Back
So we’re back in action: phone’s working, internet’s working, communications are back on track.
As is gallantry.
Tonight, you see, I let the little needle on the petrol metre slip that little bit too far (what can I say? I like to live on the edge) and next thing you know, the car’s slowing to a halt in the middle of Highgate Hill.
In my sleep-deprived stupour, I somehow resist the urge to fall into a blithering pile of messiness – after all, I have no desire to be arrested as a traffic hazard – and instead pop the boot, get out of the car, call instructions to Ella and pull out the pram in preparation for the trek down to the petrol station.
Next thing you know, a rather nice looking RAV pulls up beside me, out of which a rather nice looking man – complete with British accent – leans, saying “Need a hand?”
*Note to reader: from this point on said rescuer shall be referred to as James Bond. “Uh, I’ve just run out of petrol,” I stammer, still wrestling with the pram.
“Hmmm…” says James, then points his finger down towards the local station and raises his eye-brows as if to say “it will be open, yes?” “Yes!” I say a little too delightedly, then tone it down. “I think it’s still open.”
James flicks on his indicator without missing a beat. “You stay here. I’ll be back.”
Hasta la Vista, Baby.
Okay, sorry, wrong popular culture reference.
I sit back in the car, relieved – not only has my Good Samaritan saved the day but the kids are actually dealing with this hiccup with uncharacteristic cool.
Minutes later, James Bond returns, does his thing with the jerry-can, (while I stand by making lame jokes and thanking him profusely), refuses to accept any money for his expenses incurred and then disappears into the night with a smile and a beep.
Well, okay…just a smile.
And for a moment, I think, if it weren’t for me being sweaty and stinky from a full day out, if it weren’t for the car being full of so much crap it’s a virtual drowning hazard, if it weren’t for the hubby at home and the two kids trundled in the back-seat…this coulda almost been romantic.