Hero to Zero

Author
Discussion

AWRacing

1,710 posts

224 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Prizam said:
Fireball crash
Did you get a fondle that night?

anonymous-user

Original Poster:

53 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Driving my recent girlfriend home after a pub meal, where she indicated that the 3rd date rule was to be implemented, I took the short cut via through the woods, the road dipped down to a hairpin bend and rose steeply out of a wooded valley.

The roads were damp and when I got to the bottom, I gave it my best impression of a Colin McRae, however the amount of wet leaf litter had other ideas and I span, she was screaming and all I could think of as time slowed down was my recently departed Grandfather whose only advice for driving was " Don't pick a fight with a tree or a dry stone wall, you will lose lad!" trees and walls flashed by my eyes until we came to a stop.

For a few moments it was like am I alive?, what happened?....... then how the hell did we manage to not hit anything? and gingerly carried on taking her home, when we got there, she mumbled an apology and ran off into the house leaving me with a soggy passenger seat.

FiF

43,960 posts

250 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
LordGrover said:
Prizam said:
...
Suitably satisfied with my manoeuvre (It IS legal to speed when overtaking, right?) I got off the gas, sat in 5th gear whilst going up a genital incline on a straight and let the speedo settle back at 50mph.
...
yikes
I took that as a euphemism for the sympathy shag.

Alex_225

6,233 posts

200 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
I can't say I have any personal tails of my driving godlike skills (or lack of!) haha

I do recall a lad who used to give me and another chap a lift to school. I was about 14, other guy was 15 or so and this lad called Anthony was obviously 17 (6th form) and driving his dads Toyota Corolla 1.3.

Anyway he'd been driving us to and from school for a little while and apart from the odd random burst of speed he was a decent enough driver. That said he was also really over confident although a total geek in most senses of the word.

So, we get a fairly decent covering of snow and he's driving us home. He's going down little rat runs and is totally fearless of the potential to skid, not driving fast but completely self assured that he can, 'drive into the skid' should the inevitable happen. Literally the whole journey home he's telling us both how it's done, until we're 5 minutes from home.

He takes a turning down a side street that is that typical compacted snow that's slippery as f***, it was like slow motion. He decides to wiggle the steering wheel, basically throwing the weight of the car left then right. What followed was just beautiful. In slow motion the back stepped out, he did the complete opposite of what he'd been boasting about and slammed the brakes on. He then managed to make the back tail light collide with the only parked car along the entire road.

He did the right thing, stopped and knocked on the owners door etc etc. The moment his door shut, me and my mate were in tears laughing. Just the irony of all his boasting for a good 15-20 minutes to him having the crappest, least spectacular accident imaginable.

Krikkit

26,500 posts

180 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Vandenberg said:
Driving my recent girlfriend home after a pub meal, where she indicated that the 3rd date rule was to be implemented, I took the short cut via through the woods, the road dipped down to a hairpin bend and rose steeply out of a wooded valley.

The roads were damp and when I got to the bottom, I gave it my best impression of a Colin McRae, however the amount of wet leaf litter had other ideas and I span, she was screaming and all I could think of as time slowed down was my recently departed Grandfather whose only advice for driving was " Don't pick a fight with a tree or a dry stone wall, you will lose lad!" trees and walls flashed by my eyes until we came to a stop.

For a few moments it was like am I alive?, what happened?....... then how the hell did we manage to not hit anything? and gingerly carried on taking her home, when we got there, she mumbled an apology and ran off into the house leaving me with a soggy passenger seat.
Did you manage to implement the 3rd date rule on the 4th?

I'm getting the lesson of not impressing people with your driving from this thread. biggrin

SirSquidalot

4,039 posts

164 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
My second car, Seat Ibiza 1.4 Sport. Twice the power of my first car and quite a fun chassis. However, it was fitted with ditch finders. One-night driving home from my girlfriend’s house I decided it was time to up my lift off over steer game.

First round about, boot it in throw and lift. Fantastically executed with a good 90 degrees of opposite lock.

Next week, driving home this time in the rain. First round about, decent slide. Right let’s go for it on the next one. Enter about 40mph, throw, lift. st fk uh oh, backwards across the roundabout. Witnessed by a poor women picking up her dog’s breakfast that he'd just laid. I turned around and carried on home at a much lesser speed. 2 days later i get the tyres replaced for some decent branded ones laugh



Edited by SirSquidalot on Friday 29th July 17:02

anonymous-user

Original Poster:

53 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Trying to not laugh at work was not easy.

Some great stories so far biggrin

stupidbutkeen

1,009 posts

154 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
It was the 2nd Jan 1990 and I had only passe my driving test that morning.
The car was a talbot sunbeem owed by my dad and the place was a very very icy industral estate.
A nice 90o right hander and I was god until I wasn't any more.
Turns out that a talbot sunbeem owned by my dad could go stright through and uproot a 10 foot tall concrete fence post and take out a street name sign and the chain mail fence attached to said 10 ft concrete post.
Also turns out a sunbeen with a 'v' in its front end would still start and get me home via the security gate in the factory carpark I ended up in.

My dad just turned round and told me I owed him a car and I wi also have to get one for myself.

CS Garth

2,860 posts

104 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Alex said:
Once, I was driving my next door neighbour's 9 year old son home in my Griff. Thought I would impress him with a bit of opposite lock turning into our road. Got into a bit of a tank slapper, over-corrected and went over the fence onto the cricket pitch. It's still the stuff of legend in our village...
Moral of the story. Gown men shouldn't try and impress 9 year old boys

Gav147

976 posts

160 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Back in 2003 I had just got my Impreza Turbo, I was 23, I'd had it about a week and one of my mates wanted a run out in it so I go pick him up and off we go, going out of the back of Otley towards the Sun inn for anyone who knows the area. A great road which is always full of bikes and car nuts alike.

Anyway we get stuck behind a couple of Sunday drivers as we first get out into the sticks, we get to a left hand bend which has long downhill section with a slight right hand curve at the bottom then back uphill so a great place for overtaking. As we get to said left hand bend there is another blue Scooby nigh on identical to mine parked in the lay by at the top of the hill with his window down, so I think in my wisdom he'll appreciate the overtake and noise as I pull out to pass them, sure enough boot down and we fly by them down the hill and round the slight right hand bend, I'm not sure how quick we where going but it's safe to say it was certainly a little over 60... As we start to go back uphill I catch sight of four slow moving bikes which is odd as they where very nice, quick bikes and I have never seen any biker go slowly on this road, sure enough I catch up to them and they are all doing about 45-50mph...

Now... had I have actually been paying any sodding attention to the person actually sat in the other Scooby that was parked up rather than just looking at his car... I might have noticed it was an unmarked police car... sat there spotting for the 4 patrol cars parked over the brow of the hill we are now just just about to come over, we go over the brow and one of the traffic cops stood in the road pointing me in.

So I pull in and stop, my head in my hands as he walks up to the car. I get one hell of a bking (fair enough, fair cop and all that) we actually then ended up have a good chat about my car and I'm told to go on way and with the parting words of "just stop driving like a tt"

So off we go again very thankful to have nothing more than a bking, now the worst part as we pull up at the pub, the car park is full of bikes, among them the where the we 4 caught up to and who had not only witnessed my daft move in their mirrors but also informed what felt like pretty much every biker in there about it, so I walk into the pub to a standing evasion of cheers, laughter and general piss taking... Not my finest moment!

Grunt Futtock

334 posts

98 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Gav147 said:
Back in 2003 I had just got my Impreza Turbo, I was 23, I'd had it about a week and one of my mates wanted a run out in it so I go pick him up and off we go, going out of the back of Otley towards the Sun inn for anyone who knows the area. A great road which is always full of bikes and car nuts alike.

Anyway we get stuck behind a couple of Sunday drivers as we first get out into the sticks, we get to a left hand bend which has long downhill section with a slight right hand curve at the bottom then back uphill so a great place for overtaking. As we get to said left hand bend there is another blue Scooby nigh on identical to mine parked in the lay by at the top of the hill with his window down, so I think in my wisdom he'll appreciate the overtake and noise as I pull out to pass them, sure enough boot down and we fly by them down the hill and round the slight right hand bend, I'm not sure how quick we where going but it's safe to say it was certainly a little over 60... As we start to go back uphill I catch sight of four slow moving bikes which is odd as they where very nice, quick bikes and I have never seen any biker go slowly on this road, sure enough I catch up to them and they are all doing about 45-50mph...

Now... had I have actually been paying any sodding attention to the person actually sat in the other Scooby that was parked up rather than just looking at his car... I might have noticed it was an unmarked police car... sat there spotting for the 4 patrol cars parked over the brow of the hill we are now just just about to come over, we go over the brow and one of the traffic cops stood in the road pointing me in.

So I pull in and stop, my head in my hands as he walks up to the car. I get one hell of a bking (fair enough, fair cop and all that) we actually then ended up have a good chat about my car and I'm told to go on way and with the parting words of "just stop driving like a tt"

So off we go again very thankful to have nothing more than a bking, now the worst part as we pull up at the pub, the car park is full of bikes, among them the where the we 4 caught up to and who had not only witnessed my daft move in their mirrors but also informed what felt like pretty much every biker in there about it, so I walk into the pub to a standing evasion of cheers, laughter and general piss taking... Not my finest moment!
Know it very well, some good roads out the back of Otley but it can be hunting country for unmarked BiB

DRFC1879

3,437 posts

156 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Two for me:

Firstly a U-rated one: In my first month as a gainfully employed 21-year old commercial exec for a food company we used to supply all the Haven holiday camps with chilled goods. It was part of my job to drive round the ones in the North of England and up into Scotland to make sure all was well, audit their stocks etc.

I had a 1.6 petrol Golf company car which wasn't bad fun on the twisty bits. I was heading up Northumberland way and thought I'd nip over the causeway to Lindisfarne. Not because I was entertaining the idea of becoming a monk and seeing out my days getting lightly inebriated on the fine honey-based beverage for which the island is known but because it looked like a decent country road and I'd never driven over a causeway before.

The lane I drove down was brilliant. Twists & turns, dips and crests all the way so before going to the causeway I drove back down it for another sighter then went flat out to the causeway. I was giving it plenty of stick and caught a bit of air once or twice, hooning like only a young man in possession of a chunk of company-leased metal can with a grin wider than the Tweed Estuary on my fizog.

Trouble is, those 1.6 family hatches aren't really equipped to deal with such oikish punishment. Least of all around the brakes. I was spanking it towards a fairly sharp right hander with high banks and hedges either side and went for the middle pedal to find that my brakes had decided they'd had enough of my bullying and gone for a smoke. st. I dropped a gear and chucked the car into the corner at Christknowswhatspeed and somehow managed to make it round practically unscathed save for a brush with the roadside vegetation. I've still not been back to that road in a decent motor as I promoised myself I would.

The second one was a bit more hairy.

I was now 23, working for the same company but I'd had a promotion and had specced up (no surprise here!) a 53 plate 320d ES in Mystic Blue. I fking loved that car.

It was getting on for a year old and I routinely drove it with all driver aids turned off which made the whole experience much more fun. One Saturday night, I had been entertaining a young lass from t'other side of town. I thought I'd cook her a nice meal while my flatmate was out but as she was mere 18 years old I had to drive her home to her parents' house after we'd finished our evening's shenanigans.

All went swimmingly. I dropped her off and said hello to her parents who were convinced that I was a local purveyor of recreational pharmaceuticals because I was in my early 20s and drove a new Beemer. A 320 diesel FFS.

Anyhoo, back I went to my flat via a circuitous route as I had refrained form having even one glass of wine with the meal so I fancied a bit of a blast. Got home and had barely put my key in the door when my flatmate, completely spangled in some town centre nitespot had evidently had a barren night on the pull and asked if I'd pick him up.

"No problem" said I and with a spring in my step, ventured back out in the Bee-em. Any excuse to take a trip into town on a Satdi night.So I picked up flatmate and his well-oiled drinking companion who lived a junction up the A1. Having dropped off said companion, I was tootling along at a speed that I can't recall and I wouldn't want my failing memory to get me into trouble by suggesting that it could have been anything as silly as 120mph. The moon was full. So full, one might say that even on an unlit stretch of the A1, headlights were strictly discretional. So off they went for a bit much to the merriment of my inebriated compadre.

That's not where the "incident" occurred though. Had it done so, I very much doubt that I'd be jabbering away on the internet with the veracity afforded to me by the presence of life and a full complement of working limbs.

As I have already mentioned, driver aids such as traction control and dynamic stability control were an unwelcome interference, hindering my propensity for rear-end choreography of which Miley Cyrus would be envious. So when we pulled off the A1, egged on by my enthusiastic piston-headed chum I got the tail wagging happily round every corner. Until approaching a sharp left adjacent to a set of allotments I overcooked it a tad. I steered into the skid and tried to power out but my back wheel clipped a kerb then bit the road forcing me to over-correct. We were now going sideways towards a concrete fence post and a row of runner beans and there wasn't much I could do about it bar shouting "brace yourself". Which my mate did quite stoically given his blood alcohol level as the post snapped in two on impact and a chain link fence combed itself over the top of the car, leaving its indelible signature on every panel.

My erstwhile passenger and I exchanged glances and uttered the words "you alright?" to one another followed by "bail out". We emerged unscathed to survey the damage. A seriously dented door, the aforementioned abstract cubist paint job courtesy of the fence, a set of ruined alloys and a prematurely uprooted row of Maris Pipers made for quite a sight in the halcyon ante-smartphone days which meant the dystopia unfortunately escaped its place in the archives marked "Epic Hoonery".

We got back in the remains of my pride and joy to await the attendance of rozzers and recovery company which gave a passing couple quite the fright as happening upon the carnage to find my passenger and I in situ they presumed us wounded at best. Gave the poor girl quite a fright when I opened my door to say we were ok.

Within twenty minutes or so the boys in blue turned up to find two early 20s lads in the wrecked carcass of a newish BMW which thanks to my flatmate's night on the pop absolutely reeked of booze. I outlined what had happened when a pesky fox ran out from the allotment causing me to swerve and clip the kerb. I then said, no doubt you want to breathalyse me at which point, plod one turned to plod two and said "I think he's alright. wanna risk it?" Plod two swiftly concurred that such a dereliction of duty was more than agreeable and off they tootled in their Pug 306.

I got the car loaded onto a recovery truck and deposited into my allocated parking space outside the flat. I awoke bright and early to howls of laughter from the neighbours. Next time I picked up the young lass I'd been schmoozing (let's call her Nicki, for that was her name) it was in a Mk1 Focus hire car. She went off me shortly after...

ikarl

3,730 posts

198 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Brilliant thread OP.... Some brilliant, well written, stories so far! hehe

Gav147

976 posts

160 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
Grunt Futtock said:
Know it very well, some good roads out the back of Otley but it can be hunting country for unmarked BiB
Yeah I soon learnt to be a little more careful after that laugh

It was on this section here https://goo.gl/maps/bcPzjRqVFkS2, you can see the layby he was in behind, I really miss the roads around there.

bobbo89

5,151 posts

144 months

Friday 29th July 2016
quotequote all
October 2013, at 24 years old I'd only ever owned FWD cars and so decided to trade in my FN2 Type-R for a VX220. I picked it up on the Friday afternoon, took it steady over a wet weekend and then used it for for work the rest of the week. I only made it to 06:30 the following Tuesday!

Not being used to real wheel drive I'd given it too much throttle on a dog-leg right-left junction in the wet and lost the back end. In such a light car with no drivers aids (or experience) I ended up sending it up a kerb and then up a grass banking, grazing a telegraph pole as I went.

Car was a complete write off with both clam shells damaged and a lot of rear suspension damage. Only had it 5 days!

Edited by bobbo89 on Friday 29th July 22:17

Mr Tidy

22,065 posts

126 months

Saturday 30th July 2016
quotequote all
bobbo89 said:
October 2013, at 24 years old I'd only ever owned FWD cars and so decided to trade in my FN2 Type-R for a VX220. I picked it up on the Friday afternoon, took it steady over a wet weekend and then used it for for work the rest of the week. I only made it to 06:30 the following Tuesday!

Not being used to real wheel drive I'd given it too much throttle on a dog-leg right-left junction in the wet and lost the back end. In such a light car with no drivers aids (or experience) I ended up sending it up a kerb and then up a grass banking, grazing a telegraph pole as I went.

Car was a complete write off with both clam shells damaged and a lot of rear suspension damage. Only had it 5 days!

Edited by bobbo89 on Friday 29th July 22:17
Sorry to hear of your disaster. frown

Still it's nice to see you had "real wheel drive" even if only for a few days, although it is more often referred to as Rear Wheel Drive (but I think the sentiment is the same)! laugh

jeremy996

316 posts

225 months

Saturday 30th July 2016
quotequote all
The first car I did any real miles in was a 1972 Hillman imp, EHP700L which was a fairly benign beast, once all the bushes in the front suspension had been changed, but I was too young and stupid to know that.

First year at university, went to visit the girlfriend at Easter, 52 miles from Staffordshire to Melton Mowbray. The journey there was unremarkable, but scarily enough, the future Mother in Law put the kettle on when she heard the car and it boiled when I came in the front door. (This still happens more than 30 years later and many car changes).

The journey back was not so simple. I didn't really want to leave the girlfriend so left much later than envisaged and during a severe rainstorm. Not far out of Melton Mowbray is Shoby Bends, a series of curves with various cambers and a polished surface, which catches out idiots, (once including me), on a regular basis. Medium right, sharp left, water on the road, "flexible" steering geometry and an inexperienced driver equals oversteer, over correction and a gentle line into a ditch on the other side of the road.

Climbs out of the passenger door and walks up the road to a farm house and asks to borrow the telephone, (pre mobile phone days!). Rings my father who laughs and them comes out to meet me an hour later with his RAC card. By the time my car was back on the road again it was past 2:00AM and I was both wet and knackered and £60 lighter, as recovering a car after an accident is extra.

Checking the car over on the drive the following late morning shows a considerable number of snails on the offside of the car, a large quantity of green slime but no bodywork damage. There is significant play in the off side steering ball joint, perished wishbone bushes and the tracking is off. Collect the spare parts on the bicycle and normal driving, (albeit with a degree more caution), was resumed.

The most useful lesson was skid training - worth its weight in gold.

Speed addicted

5,561 posts

226 months

Saturday 30th July 2016
quotequote all
I was working in Shetland on a large oil terminal.
I'd been there a couple of days and had reason to nip to the nearest village with a mate that had been there for 6 months. It's about 7 miles of quite twisty but well surfaced B road.
My mate had driven our Hyundai Accent 1.5 hire car quite quickly on the first leg of the journey and due to friendly rivalry between us I drove it back at an equally stupid pace.
Bear in mind that this was about 14 years ago when Hyundai still made properly bad cars.

I was driving about as fast as the thing would go with the little 1.5 howling away in the front and around 90mph on the speedo. As I approached a crest I set the car up for the right hand bend on the other side with two wheels on the white line.

Then, on going over the crest I discovered that the road went left before it went right. Quite sharply.

As the wheels unloaded over the crest and I desperately hauled the wheel left I lost traction with the rear wheels and began to slide sideways. It's a reasonably wide road but on the outside of the corner (a bit I really needed to use) there were two cyclists. The lead cyclist had stopped and was shaking his fist at me, I assume he though I was doing this intentionally rather than being half way through a crash.

At this point something deep within me took over. I could see my hands twirling the wheel but didn't feel like I had much input. The slide continued round the first corner, narrowly missing the cyclists then during the second right hand bend I managed to get the thing back under some sort of control.

It must have looked pretty good from the outside!

I drove the 5 miles back to the terminal at around 45 mph, my mate had said nothing at all during the incident said "You caught that quite well" as we entered the gates.

We never mentioned it again.


Edited by Speed addicted on Saturday 30th July 09:32

anonymous-user

Original Poster:

53 months

Saturday 30th July 2016
quotequote all
DRFC1879 said:
Two for me:

Firstly a U-rated one: In my first month as a gainfully employed 21-year old commercial exec for a food company we used to supply all the Haven holiday camps with chilled goods. It was part of my job to drive round the ones in the North of England and up into Scotland to make sure all was well, audit their stocks etc.

I had a 1.6 petrol Golf company car which wasn't bad fun on the twisty bits. I was heading up Northumberland way and thought I'd nip over the causeway to Lindisfarne. Not because I was entertaining the idea of becoming a monk and seeing out my days getting lightly inebriated on the fine honey-based beverage for which the island is known but because it looked like a decent country road and I'd never driven over a causeway before.

The lane I drove down was brilliant. Twists & turns, dips and crests all the way so before going to the causeway I drove back down it for another sighter then went flat out to the causeway. I was giving it plenty of stick and caught a bit of air once or twice, hooning like only a young man in possession of a chunk of company-leased metal can with a grin wider than the Tweed Estuary on my fizog.

Trouble is, those 1.6 family hatches aren't really equipped to deal with such oikish punishment. Least of all around the brakes. I was spanking it towards a fairly sharp right hander with high banks and hedges either side and went for the middle pedal to find that my brakes had decided they'd had enough of my bullying and gone for a smoke. st. I dropped a gear and chucked the car into the corner at Christknowswhatspeed and somehow managed to make it round practically unscathed save for a brush with the roadside vegetation. I've still not been back to that road in a decent motor as I promoised myself I would.

The second one was a bit more hairy.

I was now 23, working for the same company but I'd had a promotion and had specced up (no surprise here!) a 53 plate 320d ES in Mystic Blue. I fking loved that car.

It was getting on for a year old and I routinely drove it with all driver aids turned off which made the whole experience much more fun. One Saturday night, I had been entertaining a young lass from t'other side of town. I thought I'd cook her a nice meal while my flatmate was out but as she was mere 18 years old I had to drive her home to her parents' house after we'd finished our evening's shenanigans.

All went swimmingly. I dropped her off and said hello to her parents who were convinced that I was a local purveyor of recreational pharmaceuticals because I was in my early 20s and drove a new Beemer. A 320 diesel FFS.

Anyhoo, back I went to my flat via a circuitous route as I had refrained form having even one glass of wine with the meal so I fancied a bit of a blast. Got home and had barely put my key in the door when my flatmate, completely spangled in some town centre nitespot had evidently had a barren night on the pull and asked if I'd pick him up.

"No problem" said I and with a spring in my step, ventured back out in the Bee-em. Any excuse to take a trip into town on a Satdi night.So I picked up flatmate and his well-oiled drinking companion who lived a junction up the A1. Having dropped off said companion, I was tootling along at a speed that I can't recall and I wouldn't want my failing memory to get me into trouble by suggesting that it could have been anything as silly as 120mph. The moon was full. So full, one might say that even on an unlit stretch of the A1, headlights were strictly discretional. So off they went for a bit much to the merriment of my inebriated compadre.

That's not where the "incident" occurred though. Had it done so, I very much doubt that I'd be jabbering away on the internet with the veracity afforded to me by the presence of life and a full complement of working limbs.

As I have already mentioned, driver aids such as traction control and dynamic stability control were an unwelcome interference, hindering my propensity for rear-end choreography of which Miley Cyrus would be envious. So when we pulled off the A1, egged on by my enthusiastic piston-headed chum I got the tail wagging happily round every corner. Until approaching a sharp left adjacent to a set of allotments I overcooked it a tad. I steered into the skid and tried to power out but my back wheel clipped a kerb then bit the road forcing me to over-correct. We were now going sideways towards a concrete fence post and a row of runner beans and there wasn't much I could do about it bar shouting "brace yourself". Which my mate did quite stoically given his blood alcohol level as the post snapped in two on impact and a chain link fence combed itself over the top of the car, leaving its indelible signature on every panel.

My erstwhile passenger and I exchanged glances and uttered the words "you alright?" to one another followed by "bail out". We emerged unscathed to survey the damage. A seriously dented door, the aforementioned abstract cubist paint job courtesy of the fence, a set of ruined alloys and a prematurely uprooted row of Maris Pipers made for quite a sight in the halcyon ante-smartphone days which meant the dystopia unfortunately escaped its place in the archives marked "Epic Hoonery".

We got back in the remains of my pride and joy to await the attendance of rozzers and recovery company which gave a passing couple quite the fright as happening upon the carnage to find my passenger and I in situ they presumed us wounded at best. Gave the poor girl quite a fright when I opened my door to say we were ok.

Within twenty minutes or so the boys in blue turned up to find two early 20s lads in the wrecked carcass of a newish BMW which thanks to my flatmate's night on the pop absolutely reeked of booze. I outlined what had happened when a pesky fox ran out from the allotment causing me to swerve and clip the kerb. I then said, no doubt you want to breathalyse me at which point, plod one turned to plod two and said "I think he's alright. wanna risk it?" Plod two swiftly concurred that such a dereliction of duty was more than agreeable and off they tootled in their Pug 306.

I got the car loaded onto a recovery truck and deposited into my allocated parking space outside the flat. I awoke bright and early to howls of laughter from the neighbours. Next time I picked up the young lass I'd been schmoozing (let's call her Nicki, for that was her name) it was in a Mk1 Focus hire car. She went off me shortly after...
Love it biggrin

dmitry

341 posts

161 months

Saturday 30th July 2016
quotequote all
This one's a bit different but still hero to zero.
Imagine an Eastern European country. Bright orange GT86, with slight modifications making it look much faster than it is, basically something that normal people take for a very expensive sports car hehe, pulls up at a petrol station. I emerge from the car, feeling smug in my Ray-Bans, put a nozzle in the fuel filler and notice some interested looks from people at the station, in a queue of cars at a traffic light and a nearby bus stop. While tank is being filled I take some cash out of a cash machine, I'm actually on my way to a workshop where a new exhaust for my MX5 has just been made and I'm late already, so I'm in a hurry and a bit nervous I won't make it in time. With all this in mind I stroll back to the car, jump in, start the engine and drive away. BANG! Indeed, it would have been better to put the nozzle back before going anywhere. For the second time I emerge from the car, not feeling smug and pretty red in the face, to amusement of everyone around, some chaps in a car in the queue even openly (and deservedly) laughing at me.

Few minutes later, when everything has been sorted, I drove away very sheepishly and hoped no one of my friends who live nearby were around at the time.

Edited by dmitry on Saturday 30th July 20:03