Inchcock’s Letter of to anyone who will listen

 

Dear Anyone who will listen,

It has come to me attention, and that of the NHS Casualty Department staff, that I have been clobbered four times now, by folk driving disabled and Motorbility scooters in the Nottingham area.

The First Attack

The first was on Mansfield Road near the cemetery as I was walking up the hill on my way to town.

He came from behind, knocking me over and spilling my bag of goodies on the floor as he drove over me right leg. It were a decent clout wot I received.

The disabled driver then continued to rant at me, despite my pointing to me hearing aids, and then shot off up the hill. I asked the woman who came over to me, what he was saying. It seemed he was asking if I was alright, but got angry when I couldn’t hear what he was saying?

Anyway, I gorrup with the lady’s assistance, dusted missen down,  thanked the lady, and carried on me walk into town. Unfortunately I took a turn for the worse, and felt very dizzy, so called into the NHS Drop-in centre in town, who checked me over and called for an ambulance. At the hospital, the grim faced doctor said he could find nothing wrong with me, and churlishly sent me on me way.

The Second Attack

Shopping in Victoria centre, I as hobbling along nicely and received a blow from behind as the mobility scooter knocked into me.

I called out immediately to the driver, and heard his description of certain male bodily parts in answer.

The Third Attack

In Derby’s Eagle Centre. I was stood still, bent down sorting out the things in me shopping bag, walking stick on me arm.

Next thing me nose is touching the floor, as the gentleman in a Motorbility scooter knocked me over from behind, breaking me walking stick as he just carried on over it,  and disappeared!

The Fourth Attack

This took place in the Queens Medical hospital a few weeks ago.

I’d just arrived at the haematology dept for me weekly INR Warfarin level tests, and was near the ticket issue machine. A lady on a Motorbility scooter pulled up beside me. I asked her if she needed a ticket. She just replied “No I don’t”.

So I took one for myself, and moved over to the second row of seats, and was stood by the end of them, getting my paperwork out ready, and as propelled across the seats as she drove into them, and she carried on trying to accelerate for a while, I could feel the shuddering.

The staff in treatment room heard the commotion and came out as she had finally managed to free her scooter from me and the chairs, and drove off! The staff did an accident report for me. I went in for me tests, and they all had a good laugh about it.

I’d like to request you send me some limpet mines at a good price, so that next time I can try to disable the offending scooter long enough for me to… well..

I’ve just watched a DVD that me brother-in-law copied off the telly for me. About disability scooters, and the drivers not having to take a test or practise on them before going out on the roads to mangle Inchcock.

And it said the dangerous drivers of these mechanic accidents waiting to happen, do not have to have insurance either?

Tut!…

Grrr….

They’re not safe yer know!

Yours;

Juan Inchcock

Nervous Lane

Gottanewticknow

Ward 19

Nottingham’s Queens Medical Centre

2 thoughts on “Inchcock’s Letter of to anyone who will listen

  1. Marissa Bergen – Burbank, Ca – This blog is a semi auto-biographical view of my life, beginning as a rocker chick from Brooklyn, moving on to playing in a punk band on New York's Lower East Side, to my current lot in life as a working mother of two, now living in Los Angeles. I love writing because you can be whoever you want to be when you write. Therefore, I would never want to pigeon-hole myself too much in my blog. However, I don't think I will ever deviate too much from what is innately in my blood, that being humor and sarcasm. Recently I have been turning more and more to poetry. I like poetry because it let's you say so much more with so much less, so much more about so little, and it also distances you from the subject matter, making you much less likely to offend someone, which I would probably otherwise do on a daily basis.
    Marissa Bergen

    I think someone’s out to get you!

    • Inchcock – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock

      I reckon yer right Marissa. Tsk!

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