Fruitloop

We were sitting having stake-out in the motor (reverse parked obviously) having visited both Greggs and Aulds and partaken of their wares in abundance. It seems that there is an animosity between both branches of the shops, The Greggs girls had a “Who do they think they are?” attitude toward the Aulds girls, the Aulds girls were aloof and I reckon quietly confident for their end of the week meeting in the carpark after closing time…

So this other car pulls up with it’s bonnet a little bit open. “I’ll tell him when he gets out” and I wind down my window. But the old boy within is an avalanche of faffery, he’s under his seat, in the glove compartment, in the back seat, in his pockets, hat on, hat off, and I’m getting really cold. Chico in the passenger seat is most amused of course, as he always is when I am in discomfort.

However the auld yin finally gets out and I tell him of his potentially hazardous condition, “Oh I’m not surprised…” He counters “…it’s one thing after another with this car…” At which point he produces a pocketful of brake light bulbs, indicator, headlight and the rest to pick through and explain to me their relative merits and failings. Some were new, some were burnt out  “There’s a short…”. So he opens the boot and shows me the problem, “It’s in the thing here…I only use the car to pick the daughter up from the dancing….”. “Oh” says I, “It’ll be getting a bit corroded with condensation when it’s sitt…”. “Her rabbit died” He interrupted, “But she’s got two other ones so it’s alright, no more”.

Chico is grinning, tears in his eyes. It’s time for him to go back to teaching.

So he gives up on the lights, shuts the boot, locks the car and tries to fix the bonnet. Opening it sets the alarm off though. The next fly in his ointment becomes apparent. The electronic key is buggered. It’s his third too, the buttons split, the battery contacts broke off, and this one too is wonky.

However, after some furious clicking it finally made contact and honking and flashing abated. Bunnet straightened, he set off in a cloud of renewed optimism.

A brilliant wee man. In my eyes, the missing Broon. Good luck tae ‘im.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.