Bergie

Car rage, but it can’t be directed at the garage… They got me back on the road quickly, they moved some things around to accommodate it. They charged me so much money. So much. But they fixed my car and I have a 2 year guarantee (or 20,000 miles).

Driving back from Stratford on Saturday and the revs suddenly started to go crazy with very little purchase. That familiar smell of burning rubber. I put the hazards on in the slow lane. It got worse and worse. No purchase on the gears, revs going crazy. I rolled into the hard shoulder. Tried to get him started again but the clutch refused to rebound. Something badly wrong. Lou and I had to sit on the hard shoulder for over an hour. Anyone who knows Lou will know that that’s not her natural environment.

Mr Clutch is a big business, and they are preferred by the RAC. I had no choice but to go there. Like with other big garages they can kind of name their price, and they did. I could have literally bought my previous 3 cars before Bergman and had change for the money they took from me to get him back on the road. A big bold hard figure. Having been debt free for some time now, I’m now maxed out on both of my overdrafts and scared about it. No flex from Mr Clutch. Even though he pulled the numbers out of his arse, my customer service complaint has gained no traction. They are paid now. Somewhere on a beach in Turks and Caicos some fat bastard has ordered another mojito. And Bergman is back on the road.

Driving is a luxury. I do a lot of it. Even though I work with electric cars in multiple different ways, I still prefer a combustion engine full of petrol. I like Bergman because he’s a big fatty and he can carry lots. But maybe I need to move on. It’s only a matter of time before he’s no longer ULEZ compliant and then he’s a brick.

Driving back I stopped to hand-feed broken up chicken bits to a sick cat. Turns out he’d emptied his bowl before I showed up, but he was still happy to have a bit of chicken from my hand. It’s a strange experience, hand feeding a cat. That little raspy tongue. Those sharp fangs. We get on, he and I. But he’s unwell. By the time you read this he might well be under the knife, having the canker excised. I hope it’s enough. Send some positive energy, cos it has been an expensive process thus far for my friend…

Unexpected expenses. We who are self employed live in fear of them. And so often they come on the back of lovely work. The money for the car more or less exactly matches what I’ll get from that wonderful day on set yesterday. God save us all from unexpected expenses.

I’m having a glass of ouzo and then I’m gonna crash out and dream of how to make back the money I’ve spent today just to stand still.

“How did the clutch fail so catastrophically? Is there something I’m doing that I need to stop doing?” “Likely you were towing something too heavy?” Ach. Bergie has a

And we all feel asleep with our phones in our hand at that point. Or at least I did. I think I was about to blame the damage on the previous owner for trying to tow something too heavy.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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