Embarrassing moments in Supercars?
Discussion
I've had a few, this morning's was pretty good though.
I'm off work today so went down the shop to get a paper, I'm going to the gym later so stuck some Reebok trousers on with the elasticated pull string thing on.
These:
I pull up outside the shops and throw the door up to get out.
Anyone with the upwards opening doors will know that although you get used to them pretty quickly there is a certain balancing point that you have to master when getting out so you can do it in one smooth movement, for a split second you're just sort of teetering there but then it all comes together and you're upright.
A bloke has pulled up a little way away and is walking over very purposefully so I know he is going to make a cheery comment (which is very common). Just as I'm swinging out of the car and starting to straighten he goes "I said to the wife, how about you doing a straight swap for my car!" He's got a nice big smile and I always make an effort with this stuff so I'm about to give my usual retort to this comment ("Ha ha, that's how I got it in the first place mate!") when I feel a strange twisting. I get as far as "Ha ha, that's..." and suddenly I'm yanked back into the car and land sprawled across the centre bit with my legs dangling out of the door.
The bloody stretchy thing has wrapped around the seat belt clip and I've bounced up so quick it's just pulled me back in!
Bloke says "You alright?" I try to laugh it off as I contort about desperately trying to unravel the bloody thing!
Not my coolest moment.
I'll also throw this one in from a road trip thread I did a couple of years ago, apologies if you've already seen it.
Driving to Paris I pulled into a service station, was really tired and needed feeding and watering. Pulled up at the pump and grabbed an empty water bottle and some bits of old hotel paperwork from the passenger seat, jumped out and stuff the rubbish into the bin adjacent to the pump. It was one of those tall boxey type things with a little flap you push open and the rubbish drops right down inside.
Stuck about a hundred euros of juice in and the car is already starting to attract attention. There was one of those service station restaurants next to the pump I was at and a few people standing outside smoking started taking pics and smiling.
I finish filling up, and start patting my pockets. No wallet.
Look all around the car. No wallet. I'm starting to get a little concerned, I know it was in the car, I remember throwing it on the passenger...
Oh sh!t!
I go to the rubbish bin with a sinking heart, the flap is like a letterbox, it's about 4 inches wide and about three feet above where the actual bin must be. I know I have thrown my wallet in there. I slide in my arm but can't reach down far enough.
Right, don't panic, simple. I'll go into the pay bit and get the key to open the access panel or the bin.
The place is packed, I eventually get to the lady who has no English, I look around the whole place asking her "English?"
"Non"
I'm trying to mime opening the bin with a key but people in the queue are getting impatient and she's very busy.
I walk back out without paying and she calls something after me and I'm going "No problem, soon, soon".
I'm starting to get that sick feeling.
Outside the group of people round by the car has grown and there's another car waiting behind me for them pump.
Nothing else for it, I take off my jacket and get my hand as far into the bin as possible, to surprised looks from the bystanders. I flail about and manage to catch the corner of the bin bag, lifting it up I have to shove my other arm in too to fish about in the crap.
Crowd is growing, people are calling over their friends.
I can't feel the wallet anywhere so I have to start pulling the rubbish out through the flap a bit at a time and dropping it in a little pile on the forecourt in front of the car, half eaten sandwiches, rotten fruit and all types of slimy, smelly crap.
The locals are now laughing and nudging each other, surprised by this English lunatic who has pulled up in his Lamboghini and is now apparently digging around for food in the dustbins.
I find the wallet, it's virtually the last thing in there, I drop it to the side and then have to pick up all the crap from the floor and put it back in the bin. My right arm is now covered in crap and I've got nothing to wipe it with, I just want to get away from this bloody bin now so I go in, pay by fumbling with the wallet with my left hand only.
Get back in the car and I'm desperate to get in the little car park and go in and wash he crap off. I pull away and in my abject embarrassment at driving passed the (now large) assembled crowd I take the wrong turn, go straight up the slip road and I'm back on the fking motorway!
I now have to drive 40K to the next station with my left hand only while holding the stinking right arm up trying not to touch anything.
Idiot.
I'm off work today so went down the shop to get a paper, I'm going to the gym later so stuck some Reebok trousers on with the elasticated pull string thing on.
These:
I pull up outside the shops and throw the door up to get out.
Anyone with the upwards opening doors will know that although you get used to them pretty quickly there is a certain balancing point that you have to master when getting out so you can do it in one smooth movement, for a split second you're just sort of teetering there but then it all comes together and you're upright.
A bloke has pulled up a little way away and is walking over very purposefully so I know he is going to make a cheery comment (which is very common). Just as I'm swinging out of the car and starting to straighten he goes "I said to the wife, how about you doing a straight swap for my car!" He's got a nice big smile and I always make an effort with this stuff so I'm about to give my usual retort to this comment ("Ha ha, that's how I got it in the first place mate!") when I feel a strange twisting. I get as far as "Ha ha, that's..." and suddenly I'm yanked back into the car and land sprawled across the centre bit with my legs dangling out of the door.
The bloody stretchy thing has wrapped around the seat belt clip and I've bounced up so quick it's just pulled me back in!
Bloke says "You alright?" I try to laugh it off as I contort about desperately trying to unravel the bloody thing!
Not my coolest moment.
I'll also throw this one in from a road trip thread I did a couple of years ago, apologies if you've already seen it.
Driving to Paris I pulled into a service station, was really tired and needed feeding and watering. Pulled up at the pump and grabbed an empty water bottle and some bits of old hotel paperwork from the passenger seat, jumped out and stuff the rubbish into the bin adjacent to the pump. It was one of those tall boxey type things with a little flap you push open and the rubbish drops right down inside.
Stuck about a hundred euros of juice in and the car is already starting to attract attention. There was one of those service station restaurants next to the pump I was at and a few people standing outside smoking started taking pics and smiling.
I finish filling up, and start patting my pockets. No wallet.
Look all around the car. No wallet. I'm starting to get a little concerned, I know it was in the car, I remember throwing it on the passenger...
Oh sh!t!
I go to the rubbish bin with a sinking heart, the flap is like a letterbox, it's about 4 inches wide and about three feet above where the actual bin must be. I know I have thrown my wallet in there. I slide in my arm but can't reach down far enough.
Right, don't panic, simple. I'll go into the pay bit and get the key to open the access panel or the bin.
The place is packed, I eventually get to the lady who has no English, I look around the whole place asking her "English?"
"Non"
I'm trying to mime opening the bin with a key but people in the queue are getting impatient and she's very busy.
I walk back out without paying and she calls something after me and I'm going "No problem, soon, soon".
I'm starting to get that sick feeling.
Outside the group of people round by the car has grown and there's another car waiting behind me for them pump.
Nothing else for it, I take off my jacket and get my hand as far into the bin as possible, to surprised looks from the bystanders. I flail about and manage to catch the corner of the bin bag, lifting it up I have to shove my other arm in too to fish about in the crap.
Crowd is growing, people are calling over their friends.
I can't feel the wallet anywhere so I have to start pulling the rubbish out through the flap a bit at a time and dropping it in a little pile on the forecourt in front of the car, half eaten sandwiches, rotten fruit and all types of slimy, smelly crap.
The locals are now laughing and nudging each other, surprised by this English lunatic who has pulled up in his Lamboghini and is now apparently digging around for food in the dustbins.
I find the wallet, it's virtually the last thing in there, I drop it to the side and then have to pick up all the crap from the floor and put it back in the bin. My right arm is now covered in crap and I've got nothing to wipe it with, I just want to get away from this bloody bin now so I go in, pay by fumbling with the wallet with my left hand only.
Get back in the car and I'm desperate to get in the little car park and go in and wash he crap off. I pull away and in my abject embarrassment at driving passed the (now large) assembled crowd I take the wrong turn, go straight up the slip road and I'm back on the fking motorway!
I now have to drive 40K to the next station with my left hand only while holding the stinking right arm up trying not to touch anything.
Idiot.
Best one recently was getting stuck on Albert Bridge coming home from getting some PPF work done on the McLaren.
The bridge entrance is soooooooooo narrow, big old foot high curbs too.
By the time I had turned in, there was already a bus behind me, so I couldn't get out of.
Sat there panicking about my rims for a few minutes, then ended up crawling through with my door open to the beeps and laughs of those behind me.
Then had to do it all again the other side !!!
Thankfully not one alloy was scratched. But was definitely squeeky bum (and tail between my legs) time. !!
Matt
The bridge entrance is soooooooooo narrow, big old foot high curbs too.
By the time I had turned in, there was already a bus behind me, so I couldn't get out of.
Sat there panicking about my rims for a few minutes, then ended up crawling through with my door open to the beeps and laughs of those behind me.
Then had to do it all again the other side !!!
Thankfully not one alloy was scratched. But was definitely squeeky bum (and tail between my legs) time. !!
Matt
Drove the 599 to bakewell for a weekend away with friends.
Got stuck up on incredibly narrow back road, millimetres from other parked cars and stone walls.
Massive GT and little lanes designed for horse and cart are not a good mix.
Finally got to the destination, Car didn't fit on the drive of the cottage we rented. Would have ripped the front bumper off it was so steep. Didn't work backwards either.
Finally managed to extract myself and park elsewhere, but after about half a dozen 15-point turns in a less than discreet car which attracted lots of curtain twitching and sarcastic comments from passers by.
Must have looked a prize plonker.
Got stuck up on incredibly narrow back road, millimetres from other parked cars and stone walls.
Massive GT and little lanes designed for horse and cart are not a good mix.
Finally got to the destination, Car didn't fit on the drive of the cottage we rented. Would have ripped the front bumper off it was so steep. Didn't work backwards either.
Finally managed to extract myself and park elsewhere, but after about half a dozen 15-point turns in a less than discreet car which attracted lots of curtain twitching and sarcastic comments from passers by.
Must have looked a prize plonker.
Forum cross post -ish, but excuse me....
Had my new 911 for 2 days and went shopping, walked back from supermarket to car with raw chicken and 4 cans of beer. There's a bloke admiring it, and by inference me.
Open driver's door, and pulled wrong lever to open boot. (rear boot opens)
I didn't realise (!) and walked back to open rear boot holding raw chicken. Oh, engine!
Bloke next to me instantly quips "stick it in there mate and it'll be cooked by the time you're home!"
Stooooopid.
Had my new 911 for 2 days and went shopping, walked back from supermarket to car with raw chicken and 4 cans of beer. There's a bloke admiring it, and by inference me.
Open driver's door, and pulled wrong lever to open boot. (rear boot opens)
I didn't realise (!) and walked back to open rear boot holding raw chicken. Oh, engine!
Bloke next to me instantly quips "stick it in there mate and it'll be cooked by the time you're home!"
Stooooopid.
Edited by The_Doc on Friday 28th October 16:53
The_Doc said:
Forum cross post -ish, but excuse me....
Had my new 911 for 2 days and went shopping, walked back from supermarket to car with raw chicken and 4 cans of beer. There's a bloke admiring it, and by inference me.
Open driver's door, and pulled wrong lever to open boot. (rear boot opens)
I didn't realise (!) and walked back to open rear boot holding raw chicken. Oh, engine!
Bloke next to me instantly quips "stick it in there mate and it'll be cooked by the time you're home!"
Stooooopid.
I did cook a couple of salmon fillets on my engine bay when a mate forgot to bring the portable BBQ!Had my new 911 for 2 days and went shopping, walked back from supermarket to car with raw chicken and 4 cans of beer. There's a bloke admiring it, and by inference me.
Open driver's door, and pulled wrong lever to open boot. (rear boot opens)
I didn't realise (!) and walked back to open rear boot holding raw chicken. Oh, engine!
Bloke next to me instantly quips "stick it in there mate and it'll be cooked by the time you're home!"
Stooooopid.
Edited by The_Doc on Friday 28th October 16:53
The_Doc said:
Forum cross post -ish, but excuse me....
Had my new 911 for 2 days and went shopping, walked back from supermarket to car with raw chicken and 4 cans of beer. There's a bloke admiring it, and by inference me.
Open driver's door, and pulled wrong lever to open boot. (rear boot opens)
I didn't realise (!) and walked back to open rear boot holding raw chicken. Oh, engine!
Bloke next to me instantly quips "stick it in there mate and it'll be cooked by the time you're home!"
Stooooopid.
Did the same with my 996 a few times, thankfully nobody saw! Had my new 911 for 2 days and went shopping, walked back from supermarket to car with raw chicken and 4 cans of beer. There's a bloke admiring it, and by inference me.
Open driver's door, and pulled wrong lever to open boot. (rear boot opens)
I didn't realise (!) and walked back to open rear boot holding raw chicken. Oh, engine!
Bloke next to me instantly quips "stick it in there mate and it'll be cooked by the time you're home!"
Stooooopid.
Edited by The_Doc on Friday 28th October 16:53
You have to be careful being followed.......
Got followed across London on my Ducati Panigalle by a bloke on a scooter who promptly nicked it when I parked for 5 mins to pop into Selfridges. I only worked it out after the police asked me - up to then I'd just thought it was a coincidence that he too was going from the City to Selfridges. (Luckily, because it had a tracker, they got the bike back after 20 mins + a free stolen van that it was being put in the back of.)
Anyway turns out it gets worse than that these days. A bike dealer told me a story of someone at an Ace Cafe evening having a small tracker stuck onto his bike by a bloke walking passed. He happen to clock him putting his hand under his fairing. Apparently they track your car/bike with their phone and then it's gone.........
Got followed across London on my Ducati Panigalle by a bloke on a scooter who promptly nicked it when I parked for 5 mins to pop into Selfridges. I only worked it out after the police asked me - up to then I'd just thought it was a coincidence that he too was going from the City to Selfridges. (Luckily, because it had a tracker, they got the bike back after 20 mins + a free stolen van that it was being put in the back of.)
Anyway turns out it gets worse than that these days. A bike dealer told me a story of someone at an Ace Cafe evening having a small tracker stuck onto his bike by a bloke walking passed. He happen to clock him putting his hand under his fairing. Apparently they track your car/bike with their phone and then it's gone.........
About ten years ago I visited a garage to look at a Maserati 4200. I didn't realise that the dealer principal was an old school friend and he just the threw the keys at me with a smile.
I was only in the car a minute when I noticed the fuel light was on. Given his trust, I decided to put some fuel in it and pulled into the first forecourt I saw. I then spent a few minutes looking for the fuel cap release. Unsuccessful, I decided to bring the car back but was only 100m out of the garage when the car cut out and I had to coast to the verge. I called the dealer who was five minutes away and sat there pretending to be on the phone rather than appear broke down.
He was apologetic about forgetting the car had no fuel. We put some in it but I was no longer in the mood and drove it back.
PS: the release was in the glovebox.
I was only in the car a minute when I noticed the fuel light was on. Given his trust, I decided to put some fuel in it and pulled into the first forecourt I saw. I then spent a few minutes looking for the fuel cap release. Unsuccessful, I decided to bring the car back but was only 100m out of the garage when the car cut out and I had to coast to the verge. I called the dealer who was five minutes away and sat there pretending to be on the phone rather than appear broke down.
He was apologetic about forgetting the car had no fuel. We put some in it but I was no longer in the mood and drove it back.
PS: the release was in the glovebox.
I went to view a Ferrari some years ago at a well known independent dealer. The guy working in there had been parachuted in at the last second because the owner had rushed off for an emergency, he had told him I was coming and which car I was interested in.
We went into the showroom and he jumped in and put the keys in the ignition while I stood next to the car. I had been a Porsche man before this and had never even been in a Ferrari and it was quite apparent that he didn't have the foggiest idea what he was doing.
He turned the key, nothing happened, just a click.
He tried this many more times and was terribly embarrassed that he couldn't even start the car I had driven 150 miles to see. He got more and more flustered, tried ringing the owner but couldn't get him, kept jumping in and out of the car and rattling the keys.
After about 20 minutes of this it hit me that there was a Start Button. Turned the key, pressed the button and she roared into life!
I felt a bit silly but he was absolutely mortified.
I didn't buy the car.
We went into the showroom and he jumped in and put the keys in the ignition while I stood next to the car. I had been a Porsche man before this and had never even been in a Ferrari and it was quite apparent that he didn't have the foggiest idea what he was doing.
He turned the key, nothing happened, just a click.
He tried this many more times and was terribly embarrassed that he couldn't even start the car I had driven 150 miles to see. He got more and more flustered, tried ringing the owner but couldn't get him, kept jumping in and out of the car and rattling the keys.
After about 20 minutes of this it hit me that there was a Start Button. Turned the key, pressed the button and she roared into life!
I felt a bit silly but he was absolutely mortified.
I didn't buy the car.
Used to put my 599 into neutral at traffic lights as dealer told me I would be knackering clutch if I left it in gear. Problem was my daily drive was a BMW M6 automatic which you just hold in gear on the brake and then just accelerate away. In the 599 by the time lights went to green I forgot I was in it and would just revert to BMW mode, followed by a huge scream of V12 engine in neutral and no movement as I attempted to move off. this always happened when surrounded by loads of people or other cars and no doubt loads of comments about the knob in the Ferrari showing off with unnecessary engine revs.
Speaking of my M6 I can testify that on a cold wet winter evening a BMW M6 on summer tyres cannot cope with the ramp that takes you up to the upper deck level on Euro tunnel shuttle trains. After numerous attempts that ended in failure and slipping back down I had to reverse out of the way and wait in plain view as everyone else went past looking at the idiot in the BMW who couldn't drive up a ramp and had just held them up for 10 minutes
Speaking of my M6 I can testify that on a cold wet winter evening a BMW M6 on summer tyres cannot cope with the ramp that takes you up to the upper deck level on Euro tunnel shuttle trains. After numerous attempts that ended in failure and slipping back down I had to reverse out of the way and wait in plain view as everyone else went past looking at the idiot in the BMW who couldn't drive up a ramp and had just held them up for 10 minutes
Not sure this qualifies as embarassing..
My navigation skills are bad - to the point where I'll need route guidance to go somewhere I've been to previously. I had nav in my 458 but as everyone knows its perfunctory at best, having never been updated since 2011, so I never really fully trusted it.
On this occasion I thought I'd give it a chance and plugged in a route to somewhere new. I hedged my bets and had Google Maps plan the same journey for me. Anyway, I got to a point in the journey where the built-in nav was telling me to go straight on, and Google Maps was telling me to turn down a road. Obviously I turned down the road...
What was for a brief period a nicely tarmaced short cut rapidly became a single track dirt road, and I had a couple of cars behind me so had no option but to continue. I was starting to sweat at this point, leaning forwards in the seat. The road (track?) surface got progressively worse to the point where I had to start slowing down to avoid big divots, and to make matters worse it wasn't a one way road and on a couple of occasions I was faced with a car coming the other way. Thankfully both of the times this happened the other drivers were sympathetic and pretty much drove their cars into the hedge to accommodate me. If they hadn't there was nowhere at all for me to go that wouldn't have involved damaging the car.
You ever got those moments where you want to go fast, to make the pain stop, but you know you can't go fast? It's a horrible feeling.
Anyway, by the end of it I felt physically sick and my back was covered in sweat. It was the single worst driving experience I'd ever had and hopefully ever will have. The valuable lesson I learnt that day is that - perhaps - Ferrari nav gives worse guidance because it actually sends you down roads you would actually feel comfortable going down in such a car. Google Maps, by contrast, and as I've discovered more and more since, seems happy to send you down all manner of terrible single track roads if superficially it seems like it would be quicker (God help you if you ever did NSL down any of them). Google Maps is NOT supercar friendly.
My navigation skills are bad - to the point where I'll need route guidance to go somewhere I've been to previously. I had nav in my 458 but as everyone knows its perfunctory at best, having never been updated since 2011, so I never really fully trusted it.
On this occasion I thought I'd give it a chance and plugged in a route to somewhere new. I hedged my bets and had Google Maps plan the same journey for me. Anyway, I got to a point in the journey where the built-in nav was telling me to go straight on, and Google Maps was telling me to turn down a road. Obviously I turned down the road...
What was for a brief period a nicely tarmaced short cut rapidly became a single track dirt road, and I had a couple of cars behind me so had no option but to continue. I was starting to sweat at this point, leaning forwards in the seat. The road (track?) surface got progressively worse to the point where I had to start slowing down to avoid big divots, and to make matters worse it wasn't a one way road and on a couple of occasions I was faced with a car coming the other way. Thankfully both of the times this happened the other drivers were sympathetic and pretty much drove their cars into the hedge to accommodate me. If they hadn't there was nowhere at all for me to go that wouldn't have involved damaging the car.
You ever got those moments where you want to go fast, to make the pain stop, but you know you can't go fast? It's a horrible feeling.
Anyway, by the end of it I felt physically sick and my back was covered in sweat. It was the single worst driving experience I'd ever had and hopefully ever will have. The valuable lesson I learnt that day is that - perhaps - Ferrari nav gives worse guidance because it actually sends you down roads you would actually feel comfortable going down in such a car. Google Maps, by contrast, and as I've discovered more and more since, seems happy to send you down all manner of terrible single track roads if superficially it seems like it would be quicker (God help you if you ever did NSL down any of them). Google Maps is NOT supercar friendly.
Similar. When I picked up my first Lambo I followed the car's nav home from the dealer. Within 2 minutes I was driving through walled, narrow streets which were one car wide at points. Cars behind, cars coming towards me, even with mirrors tucked in I had mm to spare. Not an enjoyable 1st drive it in. I know that sweaty feeling well. And to top it all, it was an egear which takes a while to master the art of driving slow and smoothly. It wasn't until I hit the A roads that certain orifices relaxed.
Durzel said:
Not sure this qualifies as embarassing..
My navigation skills are bad - to the point where I'll need route guidance to go somewhere I've been to previously. I had nav in my 458 but as everyone knows its perfunctory at best, having never been updated since 2011, so I never really fully trusted it.
On this occasion I thought I'd give it a chance and plugged in a route to somewhere new. I hedged my bets and had Google Maps plan the same journey for me. Anyway, I got to a point in the journey where the built-in nav was telling me to go straight on, and Google Maps was telling me to turn down a road. Obviously I turned down the road...
What was for a brief period a nicely tarmaced short cut rapidly became a single track dirt road, and I had a couple of cars behind me so had no option but to continue. I was starting to sweat at this point, leaning forwards in the seat. The road (track?) surface got progressively worse to the point where I had to start slowing down to avoid big divots, and to make matters worse it wasn't a one way road and on a couple of occasions I was faced with a car coming the other way. Thankfully both of the times this happened the other drivers were sympathetic and pretty much drove their cars into the hedge to accommodate me. If they hadn't there was nowhere at all for me to go that wouldn't have involved damaging the car.
You ever got those moments where you want to go fast, to make the pain stop, but you know you can't go fast? It's a horrible feeling.
Anyway, by the end of it I felt physically sick and my back was covered in sweat. It was the single worst driving experience I'd ever had and hopefully ever will have. The valuable lesson I learnt that day is that - perhaps - Ferrari nav gives worse guidance because it actually sends you down roads you would actually feel comfortable going down in such a car. Google Maps, by contrast, and as I've discovered more and more since, seems happy to send you down all manner of terrible single track roads if superficially it seems like it would be quicker (God help you if you ever did NSL down any of them). Google Maps is NOT supercar friendly.
My navigation skills are bad - to the point where I'll need route guidance to go somewhere I've been to previously. I had nav in my 458 but as everyone knows its perfunctory at best, having never been updated since 2011, so I never really fully trusted it.
On this occasion I thought I'd give it a chance and plugged in a route to somewhere new. I hedged my bets and had Google Maps plan the same journey for me. Anyway, I got to a point in the journey where the built-in nav was telling me to go straight on, and Google Maps was telling me to turn down a road. Obviously I turned down the road...
What was for a brief period a nicely tarmaced short cut rapidly became a single track dirt road, and I had a couple of cars behind me so had no option but to continue. I was starting to sweat at this point, leaning forwards in the seat. The road (track?) surface got progressively worse to the point where I had to start slowing down to avoid big divots, and to make matters worse it wasn't a one way road and on a couple of occasions I was faced with a car coming the other way. Thankfully both of the times this happened the other drivers were sympathetic and pretty much drove their cars into the hedge to accommodate me. If they hadn't there was nowhere at all for me to go that wouldn't have involved damaging the car.
You ever got those moments where you want to go fast, to make the pain stop, but you know you can't go fast? It's a horrible feeling.
Anyway, by the end of it I felt physically sick and my back was covered in sweat. It was the single worst driving experience I'd ever had and hopefully ever will have. The valuable lesson I learnt that day is that - perhaps - Ferrari nav gives worse guidance because it actually sends you down roads you would actually feel comfortable going down in such a car. Google Maps, by contrast, and as I've discovered more and more since, seems happy to send you down all manner of terrible single track roads if superficially it seems like it would be quicker (God help you if you ever did NSL down any of them). Google Maps is NOT supercar friendly.
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