Abducted by Aliens?

We did our usual route to Skegness and started reminiscing about one journey about six years back when we first bought the manor - I can't remember which sarcastic friend christened it that but it's stuck.

Anyway, on that particular occasion, we were on our way and had planned to do a pit-stop at Tattershall as usual, when one of our crumbly friends in the other car - she with the ancient bladder - phoned me to ask if we'd mind stopping on the A17 at a roadside cafe. This was fine with us as we're most obliging for a couple of grumpys and it would make a nice change.

We got fed and watered and made up our minds to stop at Tattershall as originally planned, because madam insisted that she'd need to 'go' again by then seeing as it's about half an hour further on. It took 10 minutes - or so it seemed, both cars turned into the car park, we all laughed at how quick we'd got there and drove back out to continue our journey.

We've timed it since and we're still puzzled. I've come to the conclusion - tongue in cheek - that we were abducted by aliens, yes both cars. But the really annoying thing is we must have been rejects, I mean, what's wrong with us? Admittedly three of us could stock a chemists at a push and the fourth is still holding out for an allergy to brag about, but we're all fine specimens of antiquedom!

So aliens, next time you want to abduct me, can you see to it that my entire journey only takes half an hour rather than the usual two and half hours. I'm still waiting and hoping for 'Beam me up Scotty' technology or failing that I want a water-shute like in the Barclays advert. Yes, that would suit me fine ...