The diary of a very real Bridget Jones

All I’ll say is that petrol pumps are not my friend, but possibly Veronica’s even less. And even in moments of utter chaos my name reverts to Anne on default.

Never again will I throw caution to the wind and let the petrol run down to 26 miles on the Ford Fiesta. Optimistically I thought that would be enough to get to costa, then maybe get fuel. Instead it barely crawled into the car park of the nearest garage with my black box screaming at my blatant regard for speed limits. I’m really sorry.

On arrival at the aforementioned garage they no longer sold fuel as of three days prior which was not exceedingly helpful considering at this point I had three miles in the tank. After establishing grannie had no fuel and had put the last dregs in the mower that morning, the situation was not improving. I cried for the first time in ages and then went and announced to the garage staff I was leaving my car here for a while as was totally out of fuel. Helpfully they said did it have no fuel which was pretty obvious at this point or I wouldn’t be here. Mother bless her had begun to drive to get me fuel as her tearful over emotional daughter had once again got herself in a situation.

Throwing caution to the wind I drove to the garage down the road and by some miracle I do not know I made it. One tank of fuel later and all was okay. Would have been helpful to notify grannie and grandpa as they were about to send a rescue party, had rung the garage and the neighbours in a bid to find fuel. They are national treasures. Mum was on a fuel can mission and dutifully went back to work, another national treasure.

I believe god had ulterior motives as I found not one but two flavours of BN biscuits at the garage - when I tell you these are elite they really are. I was also made to feel a bit more collected by the very dear Veronica who professed to be having a bad day, unaware of the nightmare I had self constructed.

Veronica dropped her glasses (which I dutifully returned before they became dust on the fore-court). She admitted she’d had trouble getting to the pump as couldn’t move the hose so this was her second attempt after asking for help in the garage. Once she paid she lost her keys, then she was about to drive off with her boot up and then she bumped her head. God bless you Veronica and hope the day got better. She thanked me, Anne, for my help.

Life lesson of today is do not visit local garages for fuel, do not drive to Lincoln on an empty tank and do not chance running low on fuel - like your crazy flat mate, you are not above an empty tank.