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Back then, ordinary folk could drive along London’s Oxford Street. But it was busy, with traffic and shoppers.

The MGB roadster, my pride and joy, had stopped running and a friend was kindly towing us back to our north London flat. The shortest route took in Oxford Street.

Stopped temporarily for a pedestrian crossing outside Selfridges, the slapstick began. Lemmings, deciding not to go the extra few yards to the crossing itself, started racing across the road in front of the MGB. As their leader toppled over the tow rope, oblivious followers followed.

I resented the nasty looks I received.

4 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Rachel Bee about 1 month ago

    Oh my god I'm crying!!

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt about 1 month ago

    Crying... I had to stop myself laughing. Maybe that’s why the victims gave me such filthy looks?

  • avatar

    Rachel Bee about 1 month ago

    To clarify, crying with laughter!!

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt about 1 month ago

    Thanks for the clarification, Rachel, I thought that might be the case! It was hilarious; we dined out on it for ages!

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