The disappearing ticket

Last weekend I tuned into Danny Baker on Radio 5. I didn't realise he broadcast on R5, so it was a pleasant surprised, marred only by the lack of music - his old shows on Radio 1 (or it could have been 2, so long ago I can't remember) were always entertaining.

One of the topics he was investigating and ranting about was how things can actually disappear. Common objects, like a cat walking out in the snow, leaving prints, then nothing. The cat in question re-appeared some time later, but the owner never found out how and why it disappeared. One explanation offered was that it was picked up by a large bird of prey, possibly an owl, who managed to carry it some distance before letting go. We will never know.

With this in the back of my mind I had to drive into Blackpool to find something, and chose to park in the Houndshill multi- story, and old concrete monstrosity that has had some work done to try and make it serviceable, but still has the worse one way system ever to plague a build intended to house cars, along with very narrow ramps that make ascending and descending an experience fraught with expectation of hearing the thud of a wheel mounting the kerb and then falling down 5 inches. I drove up, collected my ticket at the entrance and stuck it in my mouth, as you do, while I drove in and closed the window. I then found a queue of cars while someone crawled around looking at the gaps in the bays to see if their VW would fit in between. Eventually I moved on and climbed ever higher seeking a bay. On the roof, there was plenty of space. I slotted in and prepared for the Blackpool shopping experience:

• mobile phone - check
• wallet - check
• car park ticket - ?

No sign of the ticket. It had been in my mouth, but wasn't there anymore. I must have taken it out and put it somewhere. Pockets checked, negative. All the possible places where I might have put it in the car? Negative. I could feel the effects of the heat ray of panic begining to turn on me. How could a ticket disappear? I tried to check under the seat but there wasn't enough space to fully open the driver side door, so I moved out of the bay I was in and found another bay with no neigbours. On my knees I continued the search, but found only a pencil. How did a pencil get in the car? I never use them. Never mind.

Nothing on the floor, I prised the joints in the drivers seat apart, nothing. This was was worrying on two fronts. 1) How was it possible to lose a ticket in a car and 2) how much would I be charged for this foolishness.

Having exhausted the search at the drivers side, I walked around and opened the passengers side. Nothing on the floor or under the carpet. Then in desperation I checked the plastic trim on the door side of the seat and there was the parking ticket stuck deep in the trim. I've no idea how it could have got, but it must have been down to either a freak gust of wind while the window was open or poltergeist activity, because I couldn't lean over far enough to bury the ticket where it was hiding while I was in the drivers seat.

Relieved, I set out on what was to be an unsuccessful shopping trip, but I continued to check that the mischievous ticket was still fastened in my jacket pocket all the time I was away from the car....................