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I used to look forward to “Friday Curry Nights” at our friends’, Gordon & Jemma.
Chicken Vindaloo was the order of the day. Sadly these days, with the passing of the seasons and an all too regular occurrence of 2.00 am acid reflux, I’ve had to opt for the safer, cooler, Chicken Biriyani. Another all too obvious sign that the Grim Reaper will want to see me sooner rather than later.
Seated at their kitchen island and well into my third Stella (well, one can’t give up everything and my wonderful wife had once again volunteered to drive home) the subject of cars was broached. Gordon & Jemma don’t “do” cars normally so naturally I feared the worst.
Their “bargain” Amethyst (purple) Merc 200 Manual was due for a change and Jemma had been hankering after a 4 x 4. “What do you think of the Jeep Grand Cherokee” she ventured. At this point I should have spotted the obvious; they’d bought a second hand one that very day and were due to pick it up in the morning, but oh no. I simply piled in, explaining that only someone with the decision making capacity of a newt would indeed opt for such a vehicle. Indeed, how anyone could ever be so stupid and that if a 4 x 4 for child ferrying was really necessary then an XC90 was the only choice out there.
Faced with the choice of apologising and exchanging the Biriyani for a helping of Humble Pie or sticking to my guns, I did the latter. Safe to say the evening ended earlier than normal and the lack of additional lagers ensured that the Zantac remained untouched.
That night and for the next two days, my wife developed a relatively severe case of food poisoning. I blamed the bottled fizzy water. She told me to Foxtrot Oscar.
And so it was that it was Monday tea-time before I could, as a matter of penance, visit Jemma to examine their new purchase and explain that perhaps I’d been a bit hasty and the new silver beast was indeed a bit better than my tractor description of Friday last.
As I pulled up outside their house a tradesman (electrician) stuck his head out of the new extension window: “Nice car. It looks like an S4. Is it?” Yes I said, but its got a GTS rear PU. “My uncle has one of them” Really “Yes it’s a GT, Burgundy with Cream Leather” Right “He keeps it in a barn” “It hasn’t moved for two years” Wrecked is it? “Nope, it’s done 17,000 miles” Well 70,000 miles is quite low, did the clutch go or the cylinder head gasket? “No, I said 17,000 and I’ve driven it. It’s awesome” Oh…………………..doesn’t want to sell it does he?
At this point he explained that his uncle was a tax exile, somewhere in the W.Indies and that communications could be protracted. “I’ll speak to him and let you know in a week or two, then we’ll get the keys and I’ll take you to see it” Top man!
So, as of today, I’m still waiting and hoping that an elderly tax exile will part with his GT. If he does then the S4 will have to go. However if I secure the Vindaloo hot GT I’ll smile at their Jeep, pretending to like it; I’ll volunteer to drive of a Friday night and we’ll have to find a less poisonous curry house. Just as long as it’s much further away
Andy
MY91 S4
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