james the dragon slayer

Parking my car at the Naas town centre car park.
There came a mildly insistent tapping on my driver's side window.
I looked.
And lo!
The prettiest girl in Naas was grinning in the window at me.
I say she was the prettiest girl in Naas.
It was a snap judgement.
I'm fairly sure she was.
Bright challenging eyes, mischievous mouth and long brown hair.
And she was smiling most winsomely.
At me.
What an intoxicating mixture.
Eyes, mouth, hair and smile, all on the one girl.
Here's larks, thinks I.
The prettiest girl in Naas beckoned me to exit the vehicle.
What could she want?
Could she have spied me passing and fallen headlong in love at first sight?
I have long been of an optimistic frame of mind when it comes to such matters, so I was inclined to play along.
She said: "I've gotten into a bit of trouble parking my car. Will you have a look?"
I essayed good natured bonhomie.
Sort of like Dick Dastardly trying to pass himself off as Saint George.
We walked over to her car.
I took a step back.
Her car, a fifteen year old Ford, was wedged at a peculiar angle, half in and half out, of a parking space.
Her front left hand bumper was about a centimetre from the side of a shiny new BMW.
Her rear right hand bumper was almost touching the wing of a black Mercedes.
I'm telling you folks, Albert Einstein couldn't have put that car into that space in that way.
To get it there, Girly Girl must have changed the laws of space and time.
The prettiest girl in Naas looked at me expectantly.
"Could you straighten it up?" quoth she adorably.
Well gentle travellers of the internet.
She hadn't exactly asked me to slay a dragon.
I scrambled into the front seat.
Her engine was still running
I took my bearings.
Foot on the clutch.
Some thoughts struck me.
If I damage the BMW and/or the Mercedes, who's liable?
If I damage the prettiest girl in Naas's car, who's liable?
I mean who will end up paying the cost of the repairs?
I looked over my shoulder.
In the back seat, the most handsome serene baby you've ever seen, gave me an encouraging smile.
I shook my head.
Truly I have a talent.
Imagine Judge Liberal hearing this case.
"Mr Healy, you have inflicted severe damage on three vehicles and caused undue stress and anxiety to an innocent child. Not to mention sorely disappointing Girly Girl. I am sentencing you to life without parole. You will share a cell with Ibrahim Buwissir and Sean Fitzpatrick."
Bloody hell.
Back to the present.
I eased off the clutch and with all the bravura and elan of a young Saint George, I rescued Girly Girl's car from its entrapment and reparked it safely.
I scraped no walls.
I damaged no vehicles.
I terrified no babies.
Saint George himself couldn't have done it better.
Dick Dastardly though would at least have gotten the girl's phone number.