"Right now," said the American comedian Steven Wright," I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I've forgotten this before.
I'm standing in the dingy area which is the main depot, with the Flying Pig on my right and two angry mechanics on my other side using animated hand movements.
"You've broken it," said one
"Aye, you've broken it," said the other.
"You've put a dent in it."
"Aye, you've put a dent in it alright." And sure enough there was a small hole at the back of the bus and missing chips of fibreglass.
And that's where the amnesia begins. Personally it's a worrisome. No excuses - but still worrisome, as I was the last one to drive the Flying Pig. But I simply cannot remember connecting with anything or reversing into anything.
This is where the deja vu begins.
When I was twenty-one, I had a fall out with a girlfriend in a London nightclub, drowned my sorrows and decided to walk or weave the two miles back to my flat in the early morning drizzle. Somewhere along the route, I fell asleep in what seemed a comfortable chair and was awoken from my comatose slumbers by a strong hand tugging at my ankle. When I sobered up just enough, I realised it was not only a strong hand, but that it belonged to the strong arm of the law - a burly policeman.
He shook his head and firmly said: "Will you please get out of the dustbin, now, sir!" But I couldn't. I was wedged and it took all the policeman's strength to pull me out. My coat and my jacket, wallet, credit cards had disappeared. Where? I have no idea. For all I know, I could have given them to someone, been mugged or thrown them away. It is locked away in some broom cupboard in my small brain.
You will remember that I drove a bus two months ago into a pile of gravel and didn't realise I had dented the bus. So maybe it is not surprising, in view of my past, that it has happened again. And, once again........I think I have forgotten this before.
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