So, what do you think?
The Salesman at the garage patted the bonnet of the shiny blue car beside him as if it were a faithful dog and he was hoping that I would pay him to let it inseminate me.
He had crazy long hair on the top of his head in a sideshed of the type that hadn't been seen since the 1940's and he kept sweeping it back with the hand that wasn't in his pocket, jiggling his keys.
Hmm, it's alright...
I hummed and tutted as I made my way around the car. It was a fucking beauty. My eyes had nearly popped out of my head when I saw it, especially when I saw the price, which was well within my means.
But being Scottish, I couldn't let the Salesman see that I was frothing at the gash for it. Instead, I had to play it cool to the extent that I looked as if I thought the car was shit in order to get some money off the price.
Unfortunately, the Salesman was Scottish too and not one of those marmalade-voiced English Sales people that infest Scotland like red signal crayfish that the Americans bought over in their bilgewater. I have actually eaten some of those crawdaddies. Normally I just make the sexy times with creatures I pull out of the water before throwing them aside to die on the rocks but these were too small even for a thumb, so I had to get inventive.
The Salesman watched me with a twinkling eye as I circled the car, shaking my head.
Not for you pal, eh?
Shedders chuckled merrily as if he had just pulled off the infamous jasmine stitch whilst balancing on a rope stretched out over a small pond.
Dunno, can you pop it so I can see the engine?
I drawled the word engine nice and casually as if I shat out engines for a living.
Truth be told, the sight of a naked engine usually made me feel sick with fear but it's always best to act as if you were born tightening a spark plug with the stubby remains of your umbilical cord.
After all, the only thing to fear, is fear itself. and engines
Shedders grimaced and pretended everything was fine even though I had pulled the seeing engine card and put him on the back foot.
Ay, hold on.
He leaned in and pulled that footery bit under the wheel and the bonnet of the car burped in response.
Right, there you are... The engine...
Shedders hauled the bonnet up and we both stared in terrified silence at the engine.
After a few moments of us both pretending we knew what the fuck anything engine'y did Shedders closed her up and dangled the keys at me.
Shall we take her for a test drive?
I sighed in relief.
Aye go on.
I took the keys and hopped in the driver's seat.
My neck prickled uneasily. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. I took some big gulps of air to calm myself down.
Where the fuck is the handbrake?
I squawked in alarm as my eyes roved the interior of the car looking for anything that might resemble a way of making it not move.
The handbrake? Ha, new cars don't have handbrakes anymore.
Shedders shook his head condescendingly as if he had stumbled upon me eating wholemeal toast with his wife.
What? No handbrake? How the fuck does that work?
I hooted indignantly as thoughts of parking on a hill flitted about my skull like terrified bats.
Relax my friend. Look. It's electric. See?
Shedders pointed down at a little shitty button under the dash with the word Hold printed on it.
I looked down at the button and then at Shedders shiny salesman bastard face.
In my head, I had visions of the car rolling off a cliff into the sea and me clutching my skirts and wailing that I thought the brake was on.
You will get the hang of it in no time, trust me.
Shedders smile reminded me of something one of my cats had vomited up once that still seemed to be alive.
I took a deep breath to quell the rising fear in my chest that I was failing a man-test.
Piece of fucking cake, mate. let's go.
I jammed my foot hard on the gas and roared out of the parking area.
If I am gonna die in some brake-related accident, I'm taking this bastard with me.
