The start, March 19th 1983, London. I remember it clear as day. I had driven into Central London earlier that morning to see a show I'd booked for the evening performance. I'd been staying in my own little apartment for about 7 months at that point, nothing special, just a small flat near the town centre of Holmes Chapel. I didn't mind it I suppose, it got me by, did the job. I'd always hear girls talking about how they wanted to 'live in a big city' with a 'good job' and a 'fancy car' but I never really understood why. I mean, yeah sure I had ambitions but nothing like that. I guess I just wanted to have a stable job and bank balance, a nice cosy house somewhere in the suburbs, and a family that I could go home to every night. It sounded perfect to me back then.
I'd been shopping for a couple of hours (with the small amount of money I had at that time), I still had loads of time before the show so I had gone back to the hotel to relax for a couple of hours. I'd heard loads about this show, I was really excited to see it, even if I was on my own! It never really bothered me being alone all the time, I had always been happy in my own company, whether it was when I was a little girl playing with Barbie dolls or revising by my self when it came to exams; it just didn't bother me. Seeing a show by myself was nothing.
I had taken some time to make my hair look good and put a bit of extra makeup on, just in case. You never know who you might bump into in the middle of London! I put on the dress I'd packed for that night, it wasn't too formal but then again, it wasn't too casual. Perfect for the show. And plus, it really showed off the best parts of me! Once I was happy with my reflection in the mirror, I took my hotel key from the coffee table, my bag and obviously my ticket. The two double-takes from a couple of guys walking through the hotel doors put the extra spring in my step as I walked towards my car. There was no way I was walking through Central London at night with heels on, no way.
It only took me about 15 minutes to get to the theatre from my hotel, long enough to sike myself up for the performance; I hadn't even thought about where I was going to park my car in the middle of a city on a Saturday night.
I drove around for an extra five minutes looking for anywhere that wasn't marked with double yellow lines to leave my car while I was watching the show. I ended up parking on a busy street a few minutes walk from the theatre, so I got out and briskly made my way there; I didn't want to miss the start after all this.
It was just as I went to go and buy a programme that I realised I'd left my bag in my car after all the stress of finding a parking a space. There was no way I could carry on without it, after all, it did have my ticket for the show inside it. I walked as fast as I could back to my car, the show was going to start in less than ten minutes, and I wanted to settle down in my seat before it did. I was getting close, and walking as fast as I could to get my ticket. Just as I turned the final corner, I saw some guy standing in front of my car, writing something on a piece of paper and then putting it right on my windshield. I looked closer for a couple of seconds, and then I realised my left wingmirror was completely knocked off. Great.
