"So this is the car?" I enquired.
"Indeed" replied the salesman.
I tore my eyes away from the man's teeth. I know good dentistry doesn't come cheap, but surely the chap could have afforded a toothbrush in his youth. Maybe the bad teeth thing was a ploy to avoid negotiation; "Don't haggle, sir. I have dental bills to pay..."
But I digress. I had, of course, been 'suckered'. My original noble intention had been to purchase a worthy, but dull automobile. Something easy to drive, economical and comfortable. Over the weekend I'd taken lots of test drives and been bored nearly to tears.
At the end of yesterday's round of test-driving cars that had all the fun of a house brick, this particular salesman had sensed my lethargy and said: "Well, sir. We do have this. It came in just this week as a part exchange for a new GTI. It isn't diesel and is a little over your budget, but maybe you might like to take it for a spin?"
He grinned that awful smile, teeth like rotting gravestones in a desolate churchyard, and I looked at the car. Or anything to avoid looking at him.
Oh dear.
It was the performance model. Sufficiently understated (I don't go in for bodykits, I like fast cars to look as 'normal' as possible. On the outside, at least.) So I had to have a drive. I mean, it wasn't as if I was going to buy it. Much too expensive. I was going to buy the boring version. No, really, I was. I could handle it. I could give it back anytime I wanted. Honest.
Oh dear.
