Written by Auntie Jean
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Monday, 30 December 2013

image for "What we did" Accidental holiday in Scunthorpe The landlady

Sunday: My car broke down after picking up an Ebay won second hand Tivo from an address on the outskirts of Scunthorpe.

Towed to the garage, I was told it would be one week before the mechanic could get the parts and fix it. Booking into a contractors "hotel" I settled down for the night into the common 12 bed dormitory.

Anticipating being unable to sleep from the snorers, wind breakers and drunk stumblers, I took out my ear plugs and inserted them. Silent bliss followed and I managed a comfortable 8 hours sleep. Breakfast, as I had anticipated was absolutely excellent with unlimited coffee and extra bacon sausages and eggs for the asking.

Monday: A look around the markets which were a little drab and depressing. Tried to find the Tourist Information Office but this seemed to be invoke belly laughs every time I asked someone. Fish and chips and twelve pints of bitter and it was back to the dormitory.

Tuesday: A walk around the derelict steel factory followed by an afternoon reading local history in the public library.

Wednesday: A refreshing swim in the river before being rescued by the fire brigade and quizzed about my sanity. A delicious supper of boiled Haslet (I still don't know what that was). Retired early to find a noisy party going on in there, one guest having come up on a scratchcard and obtained a lot of strong drink from Pidl supermarket.

Thursday: Borrowed some ill fitting clothes and walked around the corner to the Police Station to report the theft of my clothes, shoes and wallet.

Friday: Another excellent breakfast followed by a day in the bookmakers betting on anything that moved, using my credit card which I had hidden under the toilet cistern in case of loss of wallet.

Totted up the spending and realised I had gambled away my house and car and maxed all the rest of my credit, totalling £300,000, but hey It was a great day.

Saturday: Given a hearty breakfast and after paying the bill with money I had hidden under the cistern, I was driven to the Salvation Army by the landlady.

My wife came to both serve the divorce papers and pick me up later that afternoon.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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