Girl Racer
Still under house arrest today (my heinous crime being the inability to nurse my husband back to health), I happened upon an old episode of Top Gear on some random Sky channel.
I am by no means a petrol-head, far from it in fact. I know less than your average person about car makes, models or engines.
I do, however, have a penchant for driving fast - I know it's not big or clever but I just can't help it. I exhibit a hard accelerating, hard braking, take no prisoners style of driving, with a liberal dose of horn-honking thrown in for good measure (apart from when my Mom's in the passenger seat, as she's a sensitive type with a moral objection to driving over 35mph).
This information may lead you to imagine that I have a spangly car with a big engine, but alas my 1.0 litre VW Polo does not live up to expectations. Much as I love that little car, it doesn't really cut the mustard in the fast lane of the M1 when the bullies come cruising along at 120mph.
The point is that when I see Jeremy Clarkson and co. racing those cars around the track I feel my heartbeat quicken and the adrenaline starts to pump around my body. I WANT A GO!
It's not worth getting another car while we live in London. We share the Polo at the moment, and it mainly sits around, parked two or three streets away from the house, gathering scratches and prangs from passing idiots, and getting broken into once every few months just to ease the monotony.
Once we move away from the Big Smoke though I've now got my eye on a cheeky little MX5 - a sporty little two seater, not too expensive, and with a boot just big enough to keep my handbag in. What more could a girl ask for?
I am by no means a petrol-head, far from it in fact. I know less than your average person about car makes, models or engines.
I do, however, have a penchant for driving fast - I know it's not big or clever but I just can't help it. I exhibit a hard accelerating, hard braking, take no prisoners style of driving, with a liberal dose of horn-honking thrown in for good measure (apart from when my Mom's in the passenger seat, as she's a sensitive type with a moral objection to driving over 35mph).
This information may lead you to imagine that I have a spangly car with a big engine, but alas my 1.0 litre VW Polo does not live up to expectations. Much as I love that little car, it doesn't really cut the mustard in the fast lane of the M1 when the bullies come cruising along at 120mph.
The point is that when I see Jeremy Clarkson and co. racing those cars around the track I feel my heartbeat quicken and the adrenaline starts to pump around my body. I WANT A GO!
It's not worth getting another car while we live in London. We share the Polo at the moment, and it mainly sits around, parked two or three streets away from the house, gathering scratches and prangs from passing idiots, and getting broken into once every few months just to ease the monotony.
Once we move away from the Big Smoke though I've now got my eye on a cheeky little MX5 - a sporty little two seater, not too expensive, and with a boot just big enough to keep my handbag in. What more could a girl ask for?
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