My wheels. Yesterday.
I pranged my car. Again. A margarine-tub styled SUV breeder-carrier and my Ford Fiesta had a frank exchange of views, and despite my swerving vehicular bons mots, two tons of Land Rover Discovery won the argument. So, while my babe anti-magnet mobile gets repaired, my insurance pays for a rental car.
The Fast and the Mildly Annoyed
At first, I was lumped with a new Volkswagen Polo 1.4. Reliable, bland, and slow as an asthmatic ant carrying some heavy shopping. Kinda like that nice, jolly-hockeysticks god-fearing gingham-frocked girl your parents want you to marry, but who’s exciting as argyle socks. So I returned to Avis and demanded something with a bit more oomph.
My Chatsworth Pocket Rocket
Oomph is a garish Renault Clio 1.6 S (see above). Chatsworth, for the uninitiated, is an Indian suburb of Durban teeming with callow boy racers driving souped up, ghastly blinged-out little city cars. They drag-race on Friday nights, rending the humid summer air with the roaring, under-powered whine of chromed exhausts and the screech of mag wheels.
In short, my new ride is classy as a slutty, wit kak* Benoni** girl, who’s dirty, been with sailors, and will do anything for a litre bottle of Coke. Sexual junk food.
No matter. Crank up this song, rev to 7000rpm, and damn the speed bumps. Expect my speedy obituary.
* Wit kak (Afrikaans- ‘white-shit’): white trash.
** Benoni: Southern low-income suburb of Johannesburg, peopled with mullet-shorn wit kak.