My beloved Tigger decided to throw a hissy fit at the weekend, yes that’s Tigger and not me!
Whilst staying at Rosemary’s we got a call on Saturday morning to take her car into the garage for miner repair. This meant her driving to garage in her car and me following to bring her back. This sounds like a simple enough task, but no, darling Tigger decided to get all over excited and flash her pretty lights, all of them. She was so thrilled by this fun and exhilarating display that she decided not to stop. Nothing I could do would stop the show, there were lights flashing everywhere. What joy! Rosemary heads to garage alone and I sit in Tigger and press all her buttons, turn keys, click switches and even read the car manual!
Am I panicking, well I’m begining to look a wee bit frayed round the edges. Also bear in mind that this is the morning after the training the night before and I can hardly stand up, I am not at my best. Dare I say, I am not in carnival mood.
Rosemary phones to asses situation and ask how I’m doing. She suggests I call the RAC and get someone to come out. This is a far better plan than mine which went something along the lines of ‘blow the bloody car up’.
The RAC are duly called and the lovely Mike arrives in an impressively short 20 minutes. The first thing he asks me is Tiggers age, or rather that carry thing of what year is she. Well how personal to ask a lady’s age even if she is a car. I can’t remember and a look at my number plate doesn’t help as it’s got my name on it. Curse my own vanity and admit I don’t know. This causes Mike to crack up and I can almost see the ‘Typical woman driver’ look flash across his face but he is too kind/or well trained to say it.
He gets in the car, he presses the buttons and jiggles the switches, Tigger keeps flashing (really she is loving all the attention now) and nothing works. He opens the bonnet (oh God going in for the internal now, yuck things could get nasty) and says he might have to disconnect batteries etc. I have a vision of Tigger with wires all over the road, it’s not a reassuring thought. Then Mike has an idea. “Let’s try to reset the locking system and see if that helps”. He then fiddles with the key fob and makes Tigger lock, unlock and then deadlock. Deadlock, I didn’t know she knew a trick like that – well the lady does and she can sure play dead! The dance of the locks works and the light show is stilled, stopped and darkened.
Oh God, is Tigger completely dead? No thank goodness, her internal computery gizmos have reset themselves and she has returned to her normal calm reliable self.
I feel slightly (very) foolish at having had to call the RAC out to fix this, but Mike kindly points out that it was a short circuit and how was I meant to know how to fix it. What a nice man…..
Drive to garage to collect poor Rosemary who has been waiting patiently while operation light show went on at the other side of town. As I’m outside the garage I spot something really rather nice, a Renault Wind brand new sporty job in stunning sky blue. The sales guy is onhand and ever so kindly offers me a spin in this little beauty. My head is turned, my heart is taken.
Tigger glares from the car park. I feel I am getting my own back.