You'll have to go some to beat this.
This is a true story involving our publisher that unfolded last Monday.
OK, so nobody died or got injured - but it was a Hell of a day.......
My wife's away, so it fell to me to take my 9-year-old son to the hospital (for the 5th time) to get his facial wart treated. We left at 9.30am and, by the time we'd been seen, queued up at the pharmacy for his prescription and I'd dropped the kid back at school, I got back to my place at nearly midday.
My mother (80-years-old in February) had a fall last week (broke her wrist), so I'd had her staying over for a few days. She had to leave on the Monday (for a Tuesday hospital appointment), however, so we immediately headed across London (West to East), through over 200 sets of traffic lights in a 12 mile (19.3km) journey that took just over 90 minutes.
I parked up close by my mum's place, and took all the bags and other stuff out of my car into the house. I then needed to head back across London to pick up my son from school. But my mum asked me to do a few chores in the garden, which I quickly did.
Saying my goodbyes, I opened her front door - or tried to. The lock had jammed. We were locked in.
So I grabbed the keys, jumped over next door's fence, through their side-gate, forced my way into my mum's house from the front with the key, took the lock off, repaired it, stuck it back on and once again said my goodbyes and took my leave.
I closed the door behind me, and headed for the car. Only it wasn't there; it had been nicked (stolen). My mum's neighbours said they saw it being towed away. I called the police. Fortunately they arrived fairly quickly.
'It's been nicked', said the copper with a half-smile, after making a few calls to see if the car had been impounded.
With that, my mum came out. 'You left one of my bags in the boot', she said.
'The car's been nicked mum', I said.
Her purse was in the bag (with money in it), her bus pass, rings that my recently-deceased dad had given her - and her numerous medications (which she would need to take that night).
Well, the police went on their way (doubtless to take down details of yet another crime they will never solve), and my mum and I headed to the GP (doctor) to get an urgent prescription. But it took close to 3 more hours before the meds were finally in mum's hands (and subsequently in her mouth and stomach).
I then walked to the local train station, bought a ticket and travelled home by public transport. It took almost 90 minutes.
When I got home, I called the insurance company to advise that the car had been stolen. There's a £150 ($235) excess. I'll lose 2 years no-claims discount too - and it will cost me at least an additional £3,000 ($4,700) from my own funds to buy a replacement car. Great end to a great day.
The guy (it was a guy) who stole my car will probably never know how much havoc, distress and inconvenience he caused by his illegal action. But I don't bear him any ill-will; in fact, I bear him every ill-will there is. Frankly, I hope he dies a very slow and painful death (and fairly soon, too). And then he can go rot in Hell!
images: © Bogdan Suditu