The men don’t know, but the little girls understand

I’m driving the Lomax to work at the moment. Ostensibly, this is reliability testing for the Welsh. We went away to an Outwell/Robens camping weekend at Low Farm in Lincolnshire and had to get low-loaded back after an ignition failure, so a bit of work was needed. After a few dramas things seem to be running sweetly now, though a concerned chap behind me at the lights got out of his car yesterday to tell me that there was an alarming fug of petrol emanating from me.

I figure that if we can successfully get to work and back for a week, then we’ve got a chance of making it to Castle Caerinion.

But that’s just the excuse. Driving a bright blue roller skate to work makes me a Conspicuous Person. Oscar WIlde said many witty and true things, but the one I tend to live by is this:-

the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.

I pass three schools on the way to the office, two primaries and one Engineering College. Little boys wave because we look like something out of a Pixar movie. Little girls smile and tell their daddies that they want a car like that.

Teenage boys sneer. The fear of being different outweighs the joy of looking cool. And how can driving an open-top sports car that you tuned yourself be anything but cool?


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