Always the National Trust sticker. It feels like every time a car parks across the gateway to my horses’ field there is a National Trust sticker in the windscreen.
Sometimes there are several stickers in varied colours, the permits of different years, one above the other, like a star rating system for lefties. A few weeks ago, a shiny black car with five National Trust stickers parked sideways on, blocking not only the gateway but the stile beside it so people couldn’t access the footpath.
When I caught up with the two men who got out of the car, asking them to please go back and move, they were, in very posh voices, extremely rude to me.
‘No, no! We have parked in a parking space, thank you!’ said one of them, patronisingly. And he waved his hand in the air to dismiss me as they walked on. ‘It’s not a parking space,’ I said.
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