Opening the Boot of my Car...

Throughout the summer the boot of my car has remained unopened.

I was, vaguely, aware that there was a reason for this. I was, vaguely, conscious of the fact that I had made that decision - to stay out of the boot of my car. There was, I think, some fear there. Something, something deep and dark and possibly wet in my head whispered and hissed whenever I approached.

This fear did not extend to the boots of other people's cars. No shivers, no creeping itchiness tickling at my spine when other people opened their boots. In fact I even travelled between pubs in one friends boot. Didn't bother me at all. Bit cramped, yes, wasn't easy to hold my pint upright I admit, but scary? Whey nah.

I couldn't quite figure it out. I don't think I wanted to figure it out. 

Shopping for one, it all fits on the front seat.

Travelling bags for one, it all fits nicely across the back seats.

Transporting peoples from A to B. That's what seats are for. And with bags? That's what laps are for.

It is, lets be honest here, very easy to never use the boot of your car when you have no dependents/desire to clothes shop for days at a time.

First day at work, I admit, I was tempted to open that boot. But I was strong. So laptop, iBook on an extended - very extended loan, box of new books with which to line my shelves, selection of new posters, jacket, tazer. All of it fit neatly onto the back seat. All nice and cosy.

By this point I think I'd already decided that whatever was in there was going to stay there. I had deduced, cos I'm proper clever me, how, that the boot of my car must contain one of the following:

1. My football kit.

2. The remains of numerous packed lunches.

3. A nest of small rodents, possibly mice or frogs.

4. Bags of things that were meant to go to the tip.

5. A body. Possibly belonging to a former co-worker/student.

But one by one, since work has returned these have proven to be untrue.

1. Friday came. I played football, wearing my kit - not pants and vest - and kit was clean. Ish.

2. The remains of numerous packed lunches were, in fact, being stored in my former filing cabinet. Former because it had been liberated from my lair by the new Head of Drama. He wasn't best chuffed, like.

3. No unusual noises, brakes and lights still worked, nothing had eaten through the back of the seats in a desperate bid for freedom.

4. Stuff destined for the tip is, still, littered around the porch.

5. (So far) all staff and students accounted for. Did wonder briefly when the Head of Music was missing for first two days, but has since been spotted wearing a white panama and a waistcoat.

So I had no choice did I?

Tonight, as the sun slunk miserably behind the moors, beneath brooding back clouds, I opened the boot

I sooooo wish it had been a body.

 

Hands up please if you know what this is.

Yes, you at the back? No not you. The not so greasy one. Yes?

That's right. Have a gold star.

You are absolutely right.

It is, in fact, the pile of coursework I took home to mark over the summer.

And yes, for a second star? Fantastic. That is spot on.

You're right. It is due back to the class tomorrow so they can redraft in time for the Deadline.

Can we go to the pub? Yes. Yes, I think we'd better...