Had to show my face in the office today, first time I've left the house since Saturday. Low and behold it's still icy as fook on the pavements by ours.
Friday I stupidly went into town for a drink having been locked up with Covid for a whole week. Despite warnings from all the sensible heads saying it was going to snow, be murder getting home, no taxis, I didn't listen and went out.
Fast forward to 1.30am on Saturday morning and Mr Uber has pulled up outside my gaff and I drunkenly put one foot out, only to find it immediately skate beneath me. I say to the driver, "I can't get out pal, it's too slippery!", being a good man he actually drove his car up onto the pavement and alongside my gate, allowing me to get out and cling to the gates for balance/safety.
Famous last words uttered, "I'm sorted now thanks pal, ta for that, take care!". Off he pops into the darkness of suburban Huyton as I tentatively walk up my path which has a slight incline.
In the blink of an eye I'm down on the floor, momentarily stunned and feeling the cold sting my palms. I tried to get back up, only to fall down again. There was absolutely no way I could get traction and there was nothing to project myself up with, wall, stick, post, bin etc.
My only option was to crawl, on all fours, like a dog, UP my path towards the front door.
Sadly, physics and gravity and all that, I'm the wrong side of 20 stone and 6.1 tall so if you can picture a hamster on a wheel doing its very best to gain momentum, that was me. Eventually got to the garden wall, got up, went to bed and contemplated how any crumbs of dignity I had left, had gone forever.
Literally hate ice, it belongs in a glass, ideally covered in Kraken or JD, not on the floor.
