Shopping for a new car. Surely this should be one of the easiest jobs in the world; you walk in to a showroom, are greeted by a musty smelling middle aged man, sprouting a rather unconvincing attempt to bring back the moustache, see a car you like and voilá your purchase is made. Sadly this is never the case.
Trying to find this perfect car is much like receiving a present from your Nan at Christmas. You’re stupidly excited because its Christmas, endless food, whisky/ Bailey drinking and sleep (Could it be any more perfect?) but at the same time what lies beneath that layer of 1960’s wrapping paper could potentially ruin your day. “Thanks Nan another pack of biscuits and a book on British birds. You shouldn’t have.”
So you gradually tick of the lists of garages and mope off to the next one. Even more determined to find the car you want. “I don’t care if it looked gorgeous on the outside, did you see those seats?” You become so precise about what you’re looking for that nothing will do. You know what you want and no matter how many how many dealers you go to (all were of course trying to rip you off and you know that car isn’t worth that much, in fact by the end of the day your contemplating running your own garage) you still keep looking.
The right car is out there, cursing along country lanes and screaming out for you, its sole mate, its one and only. But don’t fear….auto trader is here. And what better way to spend your afternoons than find a car that’s perfect, ring up and demand you MUST have it, you’ve spent weeks looking for one just like it, could it get any better than this?
Me: “Hi was looking at your advert online, I was wondering if you still had the…”
Salesman: “Nah sorry love, sold it 2 weeks ago.”
…typical.
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