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July 8, 2009

Originally uploaded by It's in the post...

This car has been parked on the side street next to our flat for the past month or so, silently calling my name.  I’m watching out for it, so just in case the keys are accidentally left inside, that perhaps I could give it a home…and a life in the countryside, driving to picnics and other glorious glamorous imaginary occasions…

3 Comments leave one →
  1. Richard Proctor permalink
    July 9, 2009 9:13 am

    When I was a teenager, I coveted the exact same model Morris Minor in the exact same colour. It was owned by The Misses Harrisons, two ‘sisters’ who lived up our road. Bear in mind that this was before the invention of lesbians. The Misses Harrisons were both school teachers, had proud bosoms and wore sensible shoes. They reminded me of Joyce Grenfell and Margaret Rutherford (look them up!). Anyway, seeing as how I was much more brazen then, I squeezed into my old cub-scout uniform and, masquerading as a bob-a-jobber, knocked on their door. They were very sweet when I asked them if they could leave it to me in their will if they died or give me first refusal, were they ever to sell the car. Whichever happened first. I could be flexible. It kind of escaped my notice that I was still three years short of applying for my first driver’s licence, couldn’t drive anyway and didn’t have any money. Sadly, they’re both long gone. Even sadder, I’m still waiting for the car to be delivered.

    • Pillar Box Post permalink*
      July 9, 2009 8:39 pm

      Maybe they got your address wrong? This could be yours!?! Do you want me to see if there are any ladies gloves or senible shoes in the backseat?

      • Richard Proctor permalink
        July 10, 2009 9:39 am

        No don’t bother, it clearly is mine. Could you just unlock it with a coat hanger, jump start it and drop it round to my place. You know where it is.

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