Leaky Lady?

Today I had to drop my car in to be serviced.  It's been making weird noises that I assume are something to do with the brake pads and the fact I may need two front tyres.  Because it was lashing rain I got D. to follow me up to the garage I (we) use only to find it shut.  Did what I assumed the other cars outside had done and wrote my phone number on the car keys and pushed them through the letterbox.  But the letterbox had this furry thing on/in it so I didn't know if they'd gone through.

THEN . . .  someone or something (okay, so it was Paul, the mechanic) grabbed my hand and frightened the fucking shite out of me.  What makes it worse is I got such a fright I think I peed.  Either I got a fright or I sneezed.  Not good no matter what way you look at it really lol. 

When I went back to get the car Paul was still laughing.  This evening.  They could see my face so clearly through the clever glass door that they nearly wet themselves too when I did my 'Oh Fuck, I'm being attacked by a monster face'.    Yup, him and his two taxi buddies were set for the day.  Happy for them!!!

Oh, and the car is shagged, new tyres, new brake pads and a special seat of me, the leaky lady.  But only leaky when scared or jumping on a trampoline.  Or sneezing.  HUH, they NEVER tell you about that when you first visit your maternity hospital of choice.