The Hunt

Standard

I’m looking for a car at the moment, after the ill-timed demise of the Subaru and the chaotic unreliability of the Kia. I’ve test driven several potential cars, and in the testing I’ve decided that buying a car is a bit like online dating. Photos lie. Write ups exaggerate. 

Let me explain.

I revisited this car today, to take it for a test drive:

Image by The Naughty Corner

Image by The Naughty Corner

The ad spoke of room, low kilometres, affordability. When I met this potential beau, I admit to being impressed by the shine and the lack of spider webs. I took my beloved to meet it today, and she opened the door and looked at the interior.

I think someone had pooed in it.

The smell hit us first, and the brown smear on the back seat spoke of many terrible hours spent in the car.

We didn’t drive it. We just shut the doors and backed away.

 

I then found a selfy that looked sporty. Solid. Promising. Here is a photo of the make and model – not the actual car:

This is a car that made me dream of changed toilet rolls and astrology. This looked like a grown up car that wouldn’t be out of place with music blaring out of the windows. And it is European! How very mature and worldly! My hairy armpits would be fine in this car –  after all, I would almost have dual citizenship. We jumped in and drove it. The first thing we noticed was that Europeans are very strong. This thing was heavy. The second?

A very touchy gear box is standard.

I stalled this thing three times before I got out the car yard. Obviously a car issue, and not me. Really. Not. Me.

The hunt continued.

 

A small sedan would be OK, I had reasoned. I’d prefer a hatchback, but a small sedan? Doable. Kind of like settling for a family-oriented beau, without the pressure of future breeding. I admired the smallness of the nose, worried about the size of the boot, climbed aboard and off we went. Here is a photo of a similar probable squire:

Have you ever sat on a car seat that has had a large coke spilled on it, been left to dry and the foam underlay grated with a small shredder?

This was one uncomfortable vehicle. It claimed to be fuel efficient. It claimed to be sporting new rubber. It claimed many things, but the seats undid every single one of them.

We drove it, and loved it. But the five minute test drive made us realise that this was not the third member of our relationship. As transport donors go, this was a dud.

 

And so, I am still carless. If you have one to donate, sell or perhaps even to sponsor me with, all offers will be considered. Considered, you understand.

I’ve learned the hard way that when it comes to cars, it pays to be careful.

 

 

 

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