Skating on thin ice

When I was a child and about to get in trouble Dad always used to say 'You're skating on thin ice son'. I could hear those same words today as I negotiated the pavements on the way to the supermarket. Indeed I was in real difficulty at a pedestrian crossing, sliding towards the road when the signal was still on a red man. As my life flashed before my eyes out of nowhere came an elderly dog walker, fully equipped with sturdy thick tread walking boots and a hiking stick. She kindly saved me from near death and saw me to the bus stop where a bus waited, packed with gawping passengers watching my predicament unfold. As I paid my fare a small group of passengers cheered.
The horrendous journey to the station didn't stop there. Upon alighting the bus I was faced with yet more thick ice. Slowly I shuffled across, my arms outstretched for balance and my eyes on the dangerous surface beneath my feet. Out of nowhere a car whizzed past, pomping its horn loudly, I looked up suddenly and the momentary lapse of concentration caused me to land flat on my backside in full view of a nearby restaurant. The patrons were in stitches as I squirmed around on the freezing floor. I was just able to make out the make of the car to realise it belonged to fiendish wife thief Tony McNamara and in the passenger seat at my Ex, laughing her head off.