No, I'm going to talk about cars. I'll save the hair-pulling for another day.
Today was the day that my car went in for a service, and I got a BMW 5-series, you see. Now, as I've said before, I drive a Mini, which, as the name suggests, is a small car. To be honest, you could pretty much put it in the boot of the Five, but hey - I don't need anything bigger, and I like to think my Mini suits my character; cheeky, tough, and awesomely good-looking (well, two out of three ain't bad).
So, I got my Mini over to the garage fairly promptly this morning, which was a pleasant surprise as I only found out today that they've suddenly blocked off the road that runs through Heathrow airport so you now have to drive around it a bit. Annoying.
Anyway, so I go through the paper-worky bits with Mr. Service-manager person, and he gives me the key to the Five. Except it's not a key; no, it's more of a ... phaser?
"Have you ever driven a 5-series?" he says.
"No," I replied clearly as giddy as a ... well, as a super-giddy thing.
He looks at me like I'm going to crash his £25k car.
So I eventually wander over to the Five, which is hidden around the side of the dealership, and jump in. Whoa! It's like the bridge of the freakin' Enterprise! I half expected Spock to be sitting in the back.
After a little bit of fumbling, I find the slot into which the ... phaser, er, slots, and I press the start button. Whoosh! The multimedia screen in the middle of the dash jumps into life! Prioritising, I spent no time retuning the radio to Xfm. That sorted, I put it in first and released the handbrake. But it doesn't move, because the engine's not on.
Hmmm. Phaser in slot, start button pressed... just to rule out me being a spacker (after my bang on the head the other day), I go through the motions again. Still no engine on. So I sit in it like some kid who's pretending to drive daddy's big car, randomly pressing buttons.
Then I go back into the dealership.
"How do-"
"Press the clutch down and push the start button," says Mr. Service-manager without lifting his eyes from his desk.
Sheepishly I return to the Five, do as he instructed, and - VOILA! - it bursts into life with a sporty yet refined thrum. You'd never think it was a diesel.
Anyway, off I drive, and after a couple of miles I get into the swing of things. And rather like Justin Timberlake, I'm lovin' it.
Now, Sparky Ma and I made plans to take the Five to Kingston just to, y'know, give me the chance to give it a good test drive, and when I pull up outside Ma and Pa's house, she opens the door and without saying hello, says "oh... my... god..."
Sparky Ma is not used to me driving a big car, you see.
But, bravely, she gets in, and we toddle off. And she loved it too.
All in all, then, a super experience - slightly soured, however, by the bill for the new tyres, brake pads, and brake discs that my Mini needed. Still, my Mini is back, gleaming, fully tyred and raring to go. And as much as I liked the Five, I don't quite think I'm ready to give up the little red 'n white bundle of fun just yet...
Look! it barely fitted in my allocated parking space!
15 comments:
* hugs self with glee at being first! *
I'm going to read the post now...
Oh, I don't know? I'd say you're quite tough. After all, you can get through the crowds in IKEA and come out the other end alive!
The 5 series is the only BMW I like - it's those Super Villain headlights that swing me...
And thirdly, I've worked out how to thwart this dastardly Comment thing - I say No to 'auto fill' and type in my identity myself. Works every time.
Where are the pictures of you rolling around on the bonnet with your bikini and a dripping wet hose?
Because, er, that's what people do with these sorts of cars. At least they do on late night tele adds.
Ha ha ha!!! Commenting before reading the post - that made me laugh!!!
And yes, I am tough aren't I. I mean "ain't I?" I'm going to go and punch a wall now. Maybe not with my head though.
Yes, I like the Five too - there's something a little Batmobile about it... Drove nicely too. Very smooth.
That word verfication thing is odd... I did note down that I've had difficulty with it on the beta questionaire I did. I hate the fact that I have to have it, but I hate the comments more that say things like:
Ja, nice blog you have here. I am maybe liking to swap links, and Russian brides with you, yes?
Miss T! Don't you know there's a hosepipe ban in the Thames water area?! Are you trying to have me locked up?!?!
Hang on - define 'hose.'
hehehehe
What does it feel like to drive?
Naughty Miss T!
Skillz - It was awesome! Seriously smooth, and yet if you put yer foot down there was A LOT of welly to be had. I can really understand why people love 'em, and it seriously changed my perception of diesels as smelly tractors. It wasn't as chuckable as my Mini, but then the Mini is a sporty hatch, and really the Five is a luxury barge. But it drove REALLY WELL. Surprisingly light steering, but really accurate, and a great ride. I liked the idrive too!
I'd definitely have one when I grow up.
...And having just visited Skillz blog, I now realise what he was talking about in his comment.
I can assure you it drives better than a Fiesta, and does not taste like what Miss T assumes a Mexican transvestite would taste like.
Off to be sick now!
Whoo! So awesome.
I had a comment in mind, and then I was like, no, I have to read all of the others, so I read them and now I forget. Ummmmmmm.
I really like BMWs.
Also: you have your own parking space? Does it have your name on it? If not, why doesn't it? And if so, why haven't I seen a picture of it?
Oh no! Dinah - you've had a senior moment! Post it you remember!!
I like BMWs too. They're niiiiiice...!
Yeah I've got my own parking space! It has my house number on it rather than my name or a big photo of me. It was one thing I had to have when I was house-hunting - no more street parking for me!
I was *trying* to be all Big Book of British Smiles and smutty. Did it work?
Dora'll tell ya - I am kind of not very smutty. Sweary, but not clever and smutty.
It did work - well done!!
I do like smut. I'm more smutty than sweary. Not clever smutty, just smutty. At least that's what I'm told. Smut is good. I'm always willing to get it in somewhere.
Heh heh.
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