In case you haven’t been paying attention I have recently suffered a sort of mid-life madness. Sadly it didn’t involve a Ronnie Wood style ‘lost week’ with a Russian cocktail waitress, it’s rather more serious than that. I actually gave away a car.
Not just any car either, but German one from the era when they used to build them properly. My lovely BMW (the ‘E34’ generation for the nomenclature anoraks out there), a 525iA SE to be even more precise.
It wasn’t a dog either, the grey leather was immaculate and the six cylinder was super smooth. In two years it had never even hinted at missing a beat. It had a full year’s ticket, four new rubber rings of confidence on the recently replaced imperial alloys, which means something to those who know about the great metric run flat vs imperial tyre debate. Not only that there was a recent ramp and stamp service. Mind you I actually drew the line a cleaning the thing, what would be the point of that?
Anyway, after organising a silly competition to get the great British Banger buying public to tell me what Bangernomics meant to them. Whilst I was waiting for everyone to upload their cinematic epics, I didn’t use the girl for a few weeks, so the battery went flat. Never mind, I bought another and by that time Mr Dunstan Rickard had convinced me that he was not only the most deserving cause, but also knew his Bangernomics from his elbow. Indeed he’d used a packet of genuine sausage to make his point, along with a couple of old Pugs.
I didn’t really know I’d made the right decision until he came to my gaff to collect his prize Banger. Along with his son Ben, who I suspect knows rather more about cars than his dad, they seemed unduly unexcited about the sprightly thirteen year old. At least they have plans for her and that involves a whole bunch of charity runs over the coming year in aid of Ben’s school and the Autistic Society.
Much better than having some teenagers who could never afford the insurance trying to part exchange their Saxo for it, or letting some bullet headed ex-con kick the tyres and offer you 10p before using it in a botched sub post office heist. Or is that me being just a little bit mad?
Next up, anyone want a slightly dented 1997 Saab 9000?