An eventful weekend finished with me smashing my car into a kerb.
I crashed my car at about six in the morning meaning I had to wait a couple of hours until Oxbridge Industrial Estate was open before I could get my car fixed.
(People who aren’t from Stockton may know Oxbridge for its gorgeous, but expensive chippy).
Luckily, a kind young man with a recovery van offered to take my car to a garage.
20 minutes later and the man I thought was kind, was not so kind.
Of course, because this is Stockton, I assumed he was going to recover my van out of the goodness of his heart. I was wrong.
Gobsmacked, I handed over the twenty quid and carried on with my day.
Anyway, I got my car fixed and traded it for a new one.
So i’m driving through a wonderful community called Hartington Road, in my very fast, ten year old, new car, when I catch the eye of a chap wearing a black Nike cap.
Of course, being the polite man I am, I look back at him and engage in a staring contest, which lasts until I can no longer see him and I almost crash my car. Again.
My friend, from Northallerton, asks me “why was he staring you out?”.
Then I realized people from outside Stockton probably don’t play the staring game.
It is a general rule of thumb, that in Stoctkon, if someone catches your eye, you must stare back at them, until it is no longer possible, or until they come over to you and try to start a conversation.
Often they may start a conversation with “away then” or “d’ya wan’a go son?”. I assume they will go on to ask if you want to go to the cinema or Pizza Hut.
So, yesterday, i’m driving through Stockton on my way to Burger King, with my window down, when I lock eyes with a bloke wearing an Ed Hardy tracksuit and a flat cap.
Of course, he stares me out. The contest goes on until our cars are neck and neck. He then winds down his window and exclaims “away then son let’s go”.
So I stop staring, promptly wind my window up, and quickly drive off as fast as I can.