Part Three

I was jolted back into reality by a policeman that was sort of insisting that I have a breathyliser I was taken to an overly warm police car (the one with the flashing lights) and given one. In my past, I've had breath tests when I was drunk and passed no problem, tonight I was sober and failed. This was probably because of the previous night, the stuff was in my blood and that was that.

Then an ambulanceman, with his underpants on top of his tights, bounded up to the window of the police car and insisted on taking me to hospital if I was injured. And do you know, I was...I hadn't realised but my arm was numb (yeah, sure, tell me another) and I was whisked off to Ormskirk general hospital. At the hospital I was examined by competent medical personnel, had several pee's and drank copious amounts of water before being carted off again by the policey man.

The second breath test was negative, the duty sergeant was rather miffed at the police man who let me go to the hospital and threw the glass part of the test kit into a steel bucket, exploding on impact and making a lot of noise. Karen had been waiting all the time in the outside lobby of the police station, biting all her nails off and generally worrying. We walked home and finally had that birthday bonk.

Postscript
That was almost the end of the Maxi. The guys who towed the car wanted some money and basically it wasn't worth my while to pay, so I let them take the scrap value. However, I did an SAS type raid on their place with Paul Martin to secure my radio cassette, speakers and tools. I also grabbed my battery which was relatively new.

That was that, the end of the most interesting car of my life.