Stick it all on black and shut my eyes. Tight. Only joking, I’d take it off the mortgage of course. Actually no I wouldn’t, I’d buy a car, a second hand car. But which one, exactly, and why?
A large part of me would meander straight towards an early to mid-noughties Audi RS6. There’s something about the tyre and wheel arch combo and the unashamed German-ness of this monster that has always made me go wibbly at the knees. I mean look at this and then tell me that it isn’t a whole heap of motorcar for the money. And no, for 10 grand I couldn’t give an FSO Polonez about its wooden steering or a ride that’s as refined as Vinny Jones.
On the other hand, were 10 grand to somehow float its way into my palm, having landed there out of a cloud, it’d be hard not to at least ponder blowing it on one of these.
The idea of owning and wafting around in a massive old Benters has always appealed to my inner deluded idiot, and it seems that 10 grand can buy you an example that might actually fire up and run. For a while. In light of which, who cares about the insurance or the running costs, or the fact that a lot of people would hate you automatically (which is a sad realisation, is it not?) if you could go down in flames driving one of these?