- Jan 31, 2011
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I picked Tom up at 3am, it should have been earlier, but Tom being 22, and out with friends the previous night, was barely awake, I put in my 'best of sam and dave cd', and we set off to 'Soothe me' . I noticed an Essex Police panda car in my rear view, I suddenly remembered the BMW was not on the insurance register, although I was legal to drive it as I hold a motor trade policy, '****' I murmured, 'what?' Tom asked, ' rollers' I replied, Tom mumbled back '****' 'I hope they dont have SCMODS, we looked at each other and burst out laughing, anyone who has seen the Blues Brothers as many times as we have will understand...
We headed west, careful not to exceed 45mph, which seemed the optimum speed for the BMW to lose any concept of steering, as a 24 hour Mcdonalds came into view, we took on breakfast, I drove, Tom fed me chicken Mcnuggets, We joined the M25 and headed north, we made steady time, arguing over what music to play, eventually we settled on alternate music selections, although to annoy Tom I sang along to his selection in a heavy indian accent, one particular word 'bottom' caused much amusement and became the word du jour for the rest of the journey, actually the phrase du jour was 'we're all going to die' as everytime I went over 45mph, the car wobbled badly, eventually we went past Leicester to hit derby, where my instructions were to call our man and have him meet us somewhere near the M1, this we duly did and then stopped for coffee, by the time we all met, it was 6am, we concluded the deal outside someones house, until they shuffled out in a dressing gown to admonish us for the noise, which I found funny, although I probably should not have.
The drive back was much quicker, safer and faster, it was a good deal, it was a good Pajero, 3 hours later, I was back in the shop and Tom was washing cars. I missed him today, his cheeky grin, the way he looks out for me, the way he smiles and cheers when I get his favourite burgers, I never thought I would be a father, but its a good feeling,
We headed west, careful not to exceed 45mph, which seemed the optimum speed for the BMW to lose any concept of steering, as a 24 hour Mcdonalds came into view, we took on breakfast, I drove, Tom fed me chicken Mcnuggets, We joined the M25 and headed north, we made steady time, arguing over what music to play, eventually we settled on alternate music selections, although to annoy Tom I sang along to his selection in a heavy indian accent, one particular word 'bottom' caused much amusement and became the word du jour for the rest of the journey, actually the phrase du jour was 'we're all going to die' as everytime I went over 45mph, the car wobbled badly, eventually we went past Leicester to hit derby, where my instructions were to call our man and have him meet us somewhere near the M1, this we duly did and then stopped for coffee, by the time we all met, it was 6am, we concluded the deal outside someones house, until they shuffled out in a dressing gown to admonish us for the noise, which I found funny, although I probably should not have.
The drive back was much quicker, safer and faster, it was a good deal, it was a good Pajero, 3 hours later, I was back in the shop and Tom was washing cars. I missed him today, his cheeky grin, the way he looks out for me, the way he smiles and cheers when I get his favourite burgers, I never thought I would be a father, but its a good feeling,
