I need a holiday, part two

This afternoon I've REALLY felt like I need a holiday, due to a particularly nasty journey home from work. I was driving down towards the M25 when I saw a police car pulled across the width of my sliproad. I had no option but to take the other sliproad which led south rather than north, taking me in the complete wrong direction to get home. I got off the motorway at the first exit, but this led me onto some roads that I'd never driven on before and I had absolutely no idea where I was.

I know some people take to this kind of situation well, but it only served to really piss me off. On top of that, I was seriously low on petrol and was starting to think of horrible worst case scenarios in my head, seeing myself breaking down in the middle of a duel carriageway with no hard shoulder etc etc. Eventually I found my way back and treated the car to some nice Premium Unleaded petrol to reward it for not dying on me.

Cue the onslaught of 'I need a holiday' thoughts, and this takes me back nicely to my series of holiday memories.

Holiday memory two: McDermott loses all his shoes
Destination: Las Americas, Tenerife
Year: 2006

You might have noticed a recurring theme running through my two holiday memory posts so far; that of lost footwear. I'm not absolutely why, but there's something that greatly amuses me when people lose shoes.

We came back from a particularly heavy night out, and holiday debutant Dave McDermott was the last one in. The last we'd seen of him he was absolutely battered, and by the time he got back we were all in bed. During the night I kind of remember him coming into my room and fumbling around in our safe, which lay near the foot of my bed. Then I must have fallen back asleep.

In the morning he told us that he'd got a cab back from the bars but when it arrived at the hotel, he realised he didn't have any money on him to pay the driver. So he left his brand new trainers in the cab as a deposit (he'd bought these trainers especially for the holiday). Then he came back to our apartment and tried to get some of his money out of the safe, but couldn't access it (too pissed to remember the code to the lock). So in his drunken state he picked up his other pair of trainers and brought them back to the cabby as payment, forgetting that he'd already left his other pair in there. I think at that point the driver must have had enough and just drove off, with all of Dave's shoes in his car.

That day Dave had to go out and buy some flip-flops, and for the rest of the holiday they were his only set of footwear and they completely tore his feet to ribbons, ahahaha!

Oh boy, bring on Tenerife 2008.

-J