Volte face…

A ‘perk’: ‘perquisites which are privileges granted to employees…’

I said I considered the travelling a perk…maybe not right at the moment I don’t. I am shattered. Unaccountably tired – a full day of meetings and a 200 mile trip don’t usually do that to me. But I ended up stopping at Aviemore (mmm a bit like a Highland Blackpool with the addition of North Face and Fat Face shops) and then again, just about an hour later, at the odious House of Bruar.
I ‘allowed’ myself to stop because, I reasoned, I had to make several calls. Really it was because I was starting to nod off at the wheel.
I’d tried chain-smoking (not clever or good – particularly when the air conditioning was so strong that it blew the ash in my eye, temporarily blinding me and having me head straight for the verge); eating my body weight in midget gems; blasting the ipod at 40, almost deafening myself with an old Elbow track; and then singing along…
I blame the new car. It’s dull. It is – absolutely – the worst car I have ever driven – and that includes the old Yugo and the even older Lada (work of communist art that used to go on fire – the electrics were a bit frazzled…). It is unremittingly middle-aged. It has boring engine. It speaks to you – telling you where the speed cameras are (I ask you! where is the fun in that!) and it beep beeps its unhappiness when you exceed the speed limit. It has lights that come on automatically. It senses rain and wipes the windows. It has a deathly silent cabin and is too too smooth. Never buy a Renault.
I want my shoogly Spacewagon back – with it’s about-to-go clutch and leaky sump. Its peculiar sweaty odour and its super-fast 2.4GDi engine…

4 thoughts on “Volte face…

  1. There's nothing odious about the toilet facilities at The House of Bruar – the best between Glasgow and Ullapool.

    I'm told that the latest version of my Honda has an optional don't fall asleep warning. I'd buy that in the same way that I'd have had reversing sensors and a mis-fueling preventer fitted had I realised that I might have needed them.

  2. Must be an age thing Graham 😉

    I put petrol in my diesel passat last year – a full tank (£52.50 as I recall). Like you I realised what I'd done and had to roll the car off the forecourt (conscious of the male derisory eyes) and just wait for recovery…It's easy done…

  3. What a memory for detail you have. Not to mention a degree of paranoia. As if men would have anything other than sympathy oozing from every pore. I only put 18 litres in. My penalty was the £95 it cost to get it drained. But we are not alone! 150,000 people a year do it including one famous footballer last week who filled up his new Audi with the wrong fuel.

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