Cars! Well, in Emily's case, van!
Little Em came home for the weekend last Friday to visit the "aged P"s - and her friends, of course. She never fails to surprise us, and this time she didn't disappoint, rolling up in a white Ford transit van borrowed from a friend. It was an 'F' reg. and it looked a bit— well, the expression 'clapped out' elbowed its way rather forcefully into my mind. One of the wing mirrors was MacGyvered on with gaffer tape...
The idea was that she'd go round to Shorty's on Sunday and collect some things she'd left there when she moved out. About two years ago. It's funny but just the other day, I was wondering where the ottoman and the futon were. Shorty is about six foot two, by the way, and his surname is Short. A nice lad, if a little vague at times.
Anyway, she arrived safely, and after a home-made curry, she rattled off to see a couple of her friends who'd recently split up with their boyfriends and moved in together - if I followed the drift of her conversation. Naturally, she wanted to commiserate with them. She rattled home again not too far into the early hours, which was fine. I'm a night owl anyway.
One of the two girls, George, has a new boyfriend. He has a motorbike in the living room and a Subaru Imprezza in the drive. George is well impressed. The down side is that he can't afford to run the Imprezza as he's paying £500 a month in maintenance to his ex-wife and three kids. On top of that, he's carrying a little too much weight and is slightly balding. Emily thinks this relationship isn't going anywhere. For once, we're both on the same page. 8-)
On Saturday, we treated Em to a meal out at the Trading Post, after which she headed into town to catch up with her shopping. She lives in London, dammit, then goes shopping in Grimsby! Never did follow the common herd. {g} And that was the last we saw of her on Saturday.
In the early hours of Sunday morning, while I was still in my study, my attention was taken by approaching flashing lights. Which stopped outside our house. Happily, the flashing lights were orange not blue, but it still meant trouble. Yup, the white van was hooked up to a tow-truck. Emily was sorting out paperwork by the time I wandered over to see what was up - apart from the van itself. Turned out that the clutch had broken and had damaged the starter motor (which was brand new) as it did so.
Fortunately, the whole thing was covered by the A.A. with the 'Relay' option. Nobody felt like setting off for London right then though, so the driver unhooked the van and notified the A.A. that she'd contact them later in the day. Em was not happy as it didn't seem likely that they'd be willing take a detour to Shorty's so she could pick up her stuff.
My normal Sunday routine includes a trip to Tesco's for the weekly shopping. We have a friend, Brian, who comes round for dinner in the evening, and I like to serve food fresh. Brian is another one of Rod's old school friends. Rod goes to visit his parents while I shop, and Emily went along with him. It's a while since she's seen her grandparents, so that was nice for all concerned.
As I was leaving Tesco's, I noticed a black Porsche Boxster waiting at the pick-up point. Shortly after, as I was transferring provisions to the boot of my car, I heard a very throaty roar and looked up to see a bright yellow Camaro pull in behind the Boxster. Am inclined to think it was a kit car, as Camaros are usually Hugger Orange, aren't they? {g} And this
was in Humberston.
Anyway, by the time I arrived home, a mega-sized A.A. transporter lorry - like the one the little boy in the T.V. ad.
doesn't get to travel in - was parked across the drive. Nevertheless, I managed to squeeze between it and the van and so up to our front door. Impressed the hell out of Rod and Em. }8-) Unfortunately, she was just getting ready to depart, but happily I caught her before she left. Sadly, she didn't get to sample the 'fatted calf' I was planning to lay on in her honour, but at least she got to ride up front in the big lorry. Queen of the Road! 8-)
I rang her later on, at a time I thought she should have arrived home. She had. Sorta. She was sitting in the van waiting for her new house-mate to arrive. As there had been no time to get a new key cut, Em had handed over her own key. The new house-mate was out, so she was locked out. It could only happen to Em! However her boyfriend lives in London too, so he drove over to Forest Hill to let her in.
Next time she comes home I'm half expecting her to arrive in a big-rig. Hm. Maybe shouldn't joke. I wouldn't put it past her...
That's the first half of our automotive problems. On Monday, my car was booked in for a service and its first M.O.T. Although there were a few minor niggles/queries, it's only done around 9,000 miles so we weren't anticipating too much trouble. {rolls eyes} I drive a sunny yellow Fiat Punto HGT. It has an 1800c.c. engine and thus goes like clappers. Unfortunately, it was in danger of not stopping. To the extent of being an M.O.T. failure!
Now, the last time the car was serviced, it was done at Dixons which was the Fiat dealer in Grimsby. Since then, Dixons has closed and the building razed, ready for redevelopment. Their service contract has been taken over by Nissan. So - not a Fiat Dealer then...
The first hint of trouble was a 'phone call from Norman who couldn't find the necessary dingbat to unfasten the safety nuts on the wheels, and wondered if we had it at home. Huh?!!! Well, I hadn't a clue what it even looked like, so I was pretty sure I didn't have in the house. I presume he must've found it, or got hold of a spare from a Fiat dealer out of town, because the next thing was another 'phone call informing us that all four brakes wanted replacing. Guess what. None in stock.
Norman thought he might be able to get the job finished by Wednesday night, but we said Thursday would be fine. (It would be more convenient for us and we didn't want a hasty slipshod job doing.) It's now Thursday. By 5.00 p.m., we'd heard nothing, so Rod rang to find out when we could pick up my car. Dare say it'll come as no surprise to learn that Norman hasn't got the parts yet. But with luck, I might get the car back on Monday...
Ain't holding my breath.