Good Evening,
Today is a sad day. Today I have lost a good friend of mine and one that I think I will never forget. My first. My one and only. My beautiful Vivienne.
Back in the throes of my youth in the warm weather of 2016's October, I met my Vivienne at a local reputable dealership. Taking public transport to a dealership I had my heart set on the 2011-plate little orange Ford Fiesta. A five-door hatchback with a 1.4L engine was everything I had ever hoped and dreamt for in my first car and with its high specification including a multifunctional steering wheel, automatic headlights and rain sensors she was certainly a thing of beauty. Small enough for little old me and big enough for the Doggy and other half during road-trips I was certainly excited to test drive the autumnal-coloured runabout and even more anxious to hear about what packaged I could choose from.
I was financing the car, and whilst I did consider a brand spanking new motor at the time, the fact that it would depreciate by over a third just by driving it off the forecourt was a huge factor in why I chose second-hand over new. With one previous owner, no noticeable damage or scratches to her paintwork and a clean interior she was perfect. And so my little tangerine-coloured car was named Vivienne, after the flame-haired fashionista that is Vivienne Westwood. I think it fits and I have since found out that the Ford Fiesta orange hue does not come as standard and the previous owner must have paid a good deal of money for a paint job as good as what my Viv has. A special one of a kind you might say. Unique - Just like her owner! I was certainly eager to collect her and after a few weeks, our Vivienne was settling into her new home just right. The following few months lots of changes in my life including a brand new job and a serious amount of Adulting!
Over the coming months that turned into years and my beloved Vivienne took many road trips; York where we drove for nearly five and a half hours because I didn't quite realise that the speed limit was 70mph and I was pootling along at 60mph. Then there was The Peak District where we struggled up hills and a crossed snowy mountains. The multiple trips to the seaside with our puppy and even facilitating us to take our poor puppy to the vets on the odd occasion. Countless shopping trips and visiting new places or seeing friends and family. It was on one of these occasions a few weeks ago where I was visiting Mrs Tweedle-Dumb at her family pad in our hometown of Houghton Regis near Dunstable. After a good few weeks of catching-up, constant laughs and seeing each other pretty much every other day it was time for her to go back to America and her husband. With her departure also came her parents move too as they too were moving out of the family home and away to the beautiful island of Anglesey in North Wales.
Parking as I usually had, I didn't think twice about parking my car outside the family home, and I didn't think anything strange when I returned to my car much later on that evening for the drive home. It was not until the following morning when I went out to the car during my day off in order to get something when I noticed a huge grey and white stripe down the front passenger's side of the vehicle. The paint job itself was extremely noticeable, however, it was the huge dent to the door itself and the caved-in handle that gave me a shock. I was fuming. Not knowing what to do I called Mr Warehouse and hoped that he would have some advice for me that would be worthwhile.
That evening after he arrived home from work we cleaned the car and inspected the overall damage. It was certainly not going to be a cheap job by any means as there were multiple scratches, scuffs and paintwork damage to the car and its bodywork, not to mention the fact that the window made a horrid scraping and scratching noise as it was wound down. Mr Warehouse could even that squeeze his fat sausage digits in between the window and the car door meaning that it was a security risk leaving it. As soon as I could I took her to a bodywork specialist in Bedford who explained that the work was very expensive and would far outweigh my £200 excess. Opting for going through the insurance I followed procedure and took Vivienne to another dealership which was approved.
Checking her over, the Mechanic told of a very bleak and dark future for my little pumpkin. Explaining that the total damage to the car door and paintwork as well as some extras that needed to be done on the bumper, lights and bonnet to restore the condition of the car would reach well in excess of £3,000. I suppose unfortunately this means that poor Vivienne was on the cusp of being written off as a total loss which would mean my car would be scrapped or stripped down entirely, naked to her shell, her parts sold on. The kind car doctor informed me that the diagnosis would be more likely than not a write-off and that I should hurry home to check that I have purchased the all-important gap insurance. Gap insurance means that whatever the insurance company pays out for my poor old Vivienne, my gap insurance will cover the rest to what I have left to pay on my finance deal. This means that inadvertently I would walk away without a car and with the debt cleared meaning I can go out to find a new car or alternatively get a loan to cover the balance on a new car.
This evening after finishing work, I noticed I had a text from the car mechanic who diagnosed Vivienne explaining that my vehicle was now a total loss and that my insurance company will be in contact with me soon. With this, I thought that it would be better if I called the insurance company this evening so I could get the ball rolling, although after a lengthy conversation and many, many questions later the call handler finally revealed to me that my car was no longer insured under my policy and that as of the moment I get home and park her on my drive she will be classed as a category-N write-off meaning I would not be able to drive her ever again.
Rolling her gently onto my driveway, solely dedicated to her and only her, I bid my 2011-plate little orange Ford Fiesta goodbye as I emptied her insides. Vivienne will be collected in the next few days and after that I should expect to hear what she is worth. To me, however, my first ever car is and always will be priceless. We have cried together, sang together, stressed together and even screamed and shouted together at times. All the selfies. All the memories. I literally thought I would bring my future babies home from the hospital in my Vivienne, car seats and all. Alas, you were beaten up by an unscrupulous driver and thus our adventures will continue no more! You have served me well dear Viv. Miss you already ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Drivers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drivers. Show all posts
Monday, 25 March 2019
Monday, 29 August 2016
A Bumper Bank Holiday Bash!
Hey-Hey Amigos!
So the Bank Holiday has blessed us in the UK with fairly decent weather and a three-day weekend has certainly been used to its full advantage.
Starting on Friday night, Mr. Warehouse and I headed over to the venue for my party to pay the deposit and whilst we were there we had dinner in what the main pub nicknamed the snug, which, with its burnt out fire place and cosy soft seating I could easily see it being the place to be in winter time when its cold and snowy outside and the fire crackling away in the background, smells of warmed cider and Christmas to come it is defiantly somewhere I will be coming when the weather turns frosty. We had already planned that on Saturday, because my phone was still not ready after nearly two-weeks at the repair centre at Samsung, we would instead head over to the retail park. Now for many people heading out shopping or to a retail park for the day/afternoon may not sound like fun, but when you don't have the luxury of driving then you soon get bored of the same old shops with the same old things in them. It was nice being able to go somewhere fresh and interesting, plus Mr. Warehouse and I were even able to squeeze in a stop off at a couple of car dealerships en route.
Hopping off the bus at Evans Halshaw we walked around the forecourt looking at cars and peering in the boots and windows excited about the prospects of me being hopefully less than a month away from buying my first car. After a chat with some sales reps and asking some really silly and pretty pathetic questions I walked out feeling pleased that my budget of up to £150.00 per month for a finance package was very comfortable indeed and in all fairness I could easily find something for a lot less. Happy, I headed out into the sunshine with a smile on my face all in the knowledge that I would in many ways be protected in both buying brand new as well as second hand or used. Next door was a similar car dealership although this time I was actually approached by a rather enthusiastic sales guy. Friendly but not too forward he helped me get the keys for a car I had been looking around so I could have a seat and get a feel for a vehicle that could one day be mine. The car I was interested in was a shiny black Ford Fiesta. It was perfect for everything that I needed it to be; Small car so low on running costs, insurance and road tax, large boot for the dog and holidays away, four-doors so I don't have to keep adjusting my seat every time someone gets in and with only fourteen-thousand-so miles on the clock of a two-year old car, it was certainly something not to be snubbed at. Taking a look round other vehicles I was smitten and soon was encapsulated by the cars and prospects of finally owning one, free from bus routes, timetables and rainy, cold winters at bus stops.
Walking away from the cars and kindly staff I was thrilled to be hopefully coming back soon to purchase a little car. Heading onto the retail park, Mr. Warehouse and I meandered through the shops and people, picking up a few bits and bobs, even being able to grab a bargain of a three-tier black glass TV stand. I was so pleased that Mr. Warehouse finally had some money, and enough that he could start building a life for himself and for us together. I know it may seem trivial but I am just so happy to see him much more relaxed and not worried or frantic about what bills are coming out this week or what money he has left to last him. I mean sure, give him another three weeks or so but I am just glad he is finally earning decent money and doing something that he enjoys. He even has made some friends. Friends of which had even invited him on a works night out for someones birthday on Sunday evening.
"Ahh it'll only be a quiet one I think, they're not the party animals of our old work place" Mr. Warehouse mentioned. "I will be back by midnight I am sure". But as Saturday afternoon and evening rolled on, both of us couldn't really be bothered and considered sacking the whole thing off the following evening.
However, this was all before a roller coaster of a driving lesson I had on Sunday afternoon. Asking my instructor if I could bring along someone in the car so I would get used to seeing someones head in the rear-view mirror as opposed to just roads and traffic, Mr. Warehouse joined my two-hour lesson as a passenger. With the first half-hour to an hour being a good drive and all manoeuvres conducted well I was proud to show off my skills as a soon to be fully-fledged driver. However as the second hour started I could feel myself slipping, making simple and honest mistakes and loosing my confidence fast. Although as Mr. Warehouse had made the point that my driving instructor was not the best at giving instructions and left everything until the very last second which in turn I know makes me a nervous and anxious learner driver. Completing an emergency stop on the way home and fluffing up on a few junctions and roundabouts I felt awful and as we pulled into my road I nearly burst into tears when I explained that I felt as though the lesson had been one of my worst. Although my instructor was supportive and had said that two hours is not normal driving in reality and most people loose concentration after such a long time, especially when not knowing where to go or what to do.
And so after that lesson I was more than ready for a night of drinking, even if only for a few hours. Getting glammed up and ditching the heels I was more than ready for the dance floor. Although meeting Mr. Warehouse's work colleagues I could tell that they weren't quite the disco divas I was used to. Nevertheless we enjoyed some drinks and progressively got more and more intoxicated. Heading on for midnight I looked at Mr. Warehouse, expecting him to be calling it a night soon. However, we had not planned on meeting Mr. Warehouse's cousin at the bar and after yet more drinks and dance we were all very pissed by this point, although whenever Mr. Warehouse was not looking, and to be fair, even when he was looking Mr. Warehouse's cousin would have his arm either round my waist, hand on my arse, kissing my neck or trying it on in other ways which in a way made me more uncomfortable than I ever thought. But I am sure he was very drunk and would not have known what he was doing ... Or at least I hope not. I'm his Cousins Girlfriend - Not his!!!
Getting home in the earlier hours of this morning I wrestled with the pukey Mr. Warehouse for a further two-hours before I finally prised him off the toilet and out of the bath in my tiny restroom and into bed, where he then proceeded to be sick on the sheets. Confined to the sofa I had a good night's sleep and woke in the morning to a very. very, very hungover and apologetic boyfriend. With an afternoon spent with visiting family now over and done with, Mr. Warehouse and I now have a kebab on the way from the takeaway and are looking forward to a night under the duvet and Netflix-chilling!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So the Bank Holiday has blessed us in the UK with fairly decent weather and a three-day weekend has certainly been used to its full advantage.
Starting on Friday night, Mr. Warehouse and I headed over to the venue for my party to pay the deposit and whilst we were there we had dinner in what the main pub nicknamed the snug, which, with its burnt out fire place and cosy soft seating I could easily see it being the place to be in winter time when its cold and snowy outside and the fire crackling away in the background, smells of warmed cider and Christmas to come it is defiantly somewhere I will be coming when the weather turns frosty. We had already planned that on Saturday, because my phone was still not ready after nearly two-weeks at the repair centre at Samsung, we would instead head over to the retail park. Now for many people heading out shopping or to a retail park for the day/afternoon may not sound like fun, but when you don't have the luxury of driving then you soon get bored of the same old shops with the same old things in them. It was nice being able to go somewhere fresh and interesting, plus Mr. Warehouse and I were even able to squeeze in a stop off at a couple of car dealerships en route.
Hopping off the bus at Evans Halshaw we walked around the forecourt looking at cars and peering in the boots and windows excited about the prospects of me being hopefully less than a month away from buying my first car. After a chat with some sales reps and asking some really silly and pretty pathetic questions I walked out feeling pleased that my budget of up to £150.00 per month for a finance package was very comfortable indeed and in all fairness I could easily find something for a lot less. Happy, I headed out into the sunshine with a smile on my face all in the knowledge that I would in many ways be protected in both buying brand new as well as second hand or used. Next door was a similar car dealership although this time I was actually approached by a rather enthusiastic sales guy. Friendly but not too forward he helped me get the keys for a car I had been looking around so I could have a seat and get a feel for a vehicle that could one day be mine. The car I was interested in was a shiny black Ford Fiesta. It was perfect for everything that I needed it to be; Small car so low on running costs, insurance and road tax, large boot for the dog and holidays away, four-doors so I don't have to keep adjusting my seat every time someone gets in and with only fourteen-thousand-so miles on the clock of a two-year old car, it was certainly something not to be snubbed at. Taking a look round other vehicles I was smitten and soon was encapsulated by the cars and prospects of finally owning one, free from bus routes, timetables and rainy, cold winters at bus stops.
Walking away from the cars and kindly staff I was thrilled to be hopefully coming back soon to purchase a little car. Heading onto the retail park, Mr. Warehouse and I meandered through the shops and people, picking up a few bits and bobs, even being able to grab a bargain of a three-tier black glass TV stand. I was so pleased that Mr. Warehouse finally had some money, and enough that he could start building a life for himself and for us together. I know it may seem trivial but I am just so happy to see him much more relaxed and not worried or frantic about what bills are coming out this week or what money he has left to last him. I mean sure, give him another three weeks or so but I am just glad he is finally earning decent money and doing something that he enjoys. He even has made some friends. Friends of which had even invited him on a works night out for someones birthday on Sunday evening.
"Ahh it'll only be a quiet one I think, they're not the party animals of our old work place" Mr. Warehouse mentioned. "I will be back by midnight I am sure". But as Saturday afternoon and evening rolled on, both of us couldn't really be bothered and considered sacking the whole thing off the following evening.
However, this was all before a roller coaster of a driving lesson I had on Sunday afternoon. Asking my instructor if I could bring along someone in the car so I would get used to seeing someones head in the rear-view mirror as opposed to just roads and traffic, Mr. Warehouse joined my two-hour lesson as a passenger. With the first half-hour to an hour being a good drive and all manoeuvres conducted well I was proud to show off my skills as a soon to be fully-fledged driver. However as the second hour started I could feel myself slipping, making simple and honest mistakes and loosing my confidence fast. Although as Mr. Warehouse had made the point that my driving instructor was not the best at giving instructions and left everything until the very last second which in turn I know makes me a nervous and anxious learner driver. Completing an emergency stop on the way home and fluffing up on a few junctions and roundabouts I felt awful and as we pulled into my road I nearly burst into tears when I explained that I felt as though the lesson had been one of my worst. Although my instructor was supportive and had said that two hours is not normal driving in reality and most people loose concentration after such a long time, especially when not knowing where to go or what to do.
And so after that lesson I was more than ready for a night of drinking, even if only for a few hours. Getting glammed up and ditching the heels I was more than ready for the dance floor. Although meeting Mr. Warehouse's work colleagues I could tell that they weren't quite the disco divas I was used to. Nevertheless we enjoyed some drinks and progressively got more and more intoxicated. Heading on for midnight I looked at Mr. Warehouse, expecting him to be calling it a night soon. However, we had not planned on meeting Mr. Warehouse's cousin at the bar and after yet more drinks and dance we were all very pissed by this point, although whenever Mr. Warehouse was not looking, and to be fair, even when he was looking Mr. Warehouse's cousin would have his arm either round my waist, hand on my arse, kissing my neck or trying it on in other ways which in a way made me more uncomfortable than I ever thought. But I am sure he was very drunk and would not have known what he was doing ... Or at least I hope not. I'm his Cousins Girlfriend - Not his!!!
Getting home in the earlier hours of this morning I wrestled with the pukey Mr. Warehouse for a further two-hours before I finally prised him off the toilet and out of the bath in my tiny restroom and into bed, where he then proceeded to be sick on the sheets. Confined to the sofa I had a good night's sleep and woke in the morning to a very. very, very hungover and apologetic boyfriend. With an afternoon spent with visiting family now over and done with, Mr. Warehouse and I now have a kebab on the way from the takeaway and are looking forward to a night under the duvet and Netflix-chilling!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 1 August 2016
Foot To The Floor!
Hello,
Pulling into my road after my driving lesson on Friday evening I felt OK about the last couple of hours handling lots of town driving and weekend traffic. Conducting a near perfect parallel park outside my little flat I turned off the engine and took my Ugg-clad feet off the pedals and relaxed.
"So where was it that you went for the operation?" My instructor asked me. Confused I worried what he was on about. I mean I had a bandage on my arm where I had my Implant replaced the following evening, but I wasn't sure what he meant by that statement.
"I'm sorry I am not sure I understand?" I asked timidly.
"Well that's the best I have seen you drive. Ever! So where was the personality transplant done?" My Instructor replied, chuckling to himself. Thankfully I took a sigh of relief and explained that I thought things had been a bit jittery on the pedal control since I was wearing heavy winter boots with thick soles but my instructor reassured me and said that I should probably start calling them my 'Lucky Boots'. We talked for another few moments about my upcoming test and what it would entail. Suddenly I realised that my actual real-life driving test was in a matter of weeks. Six-weeks and three days to be precise. And yes, I am crapping myself.
I am honestly actually looking forward to it, even though it has come round so fast. I am stunned at how quickly I have learnt everything. I mean granted I still cannot bay-park for shit, but I figure that we will get better in time with that one, but all the manoeuvres I was dreading; Emergency stop, Reverse round a corner and Parallel parking I am all fairly OK with but for some odd reason I have got worse as time goes on with my bay-parking. It feels like only yesterday I was getting in the car for the first time and being pleased that I had driven home or that I pulled out onto a busy road for the first time, now I am less than two-months from finding out whether I have passed my test or not. Eeeek!
I am not expecting to pass first time. I mean obviously it would be a bonus for me as I wouldn't have to shell out another sixty-something-quid in order to retake my test but I acknowledge that realistically the odds will be forever stacked against my favour. An average of seventy-percent of people taking their driving test for the first time will fail, according to my instructor anyway, so the likelihood of me failing is slightly inevitable. My Father always taught me one good thing at least and that was that if I set myself up for failure and prepare for all the horror that it brings, anything else will be a bonus. I suppose in a squaddie sort of way it makes sense, I'm just hoping I have taken everything on board and get a pass first time!
Something else that I will have to consider is if I should bring my instructor along for my test itself. It would be my choice on the day if I wanted him there, watching me from the back seats of my White Beema. (Which I have since hugged, knowing now that it will be the very same car I take my Exam in. I don't know why, I just thought examiners had their own testing cars?) I am erring on the side of caution here as I would prefer for obvious reasons not to be judged by two people, one whom I have come to know rather well, but also I am thinking about some of the things my instructor said to me on Friday evening after my lesson. He explained that not only does he like to become familiar with the body language and conducts of a Driving Exam but also what roads they take so he can show and practise with other learners. He also talked through the interesting fact that once an examiner has finished and is making their decision on whether I am a road-worthy person, if for any reason the examiner is unsure on whether I am capable of certain situations or is unsure of how I handled what happened during my forty-minute Exam, my instructor was right there in the back seats of the vehicle so can judge as well for himself how I handled it, either agreeing or disagreeing with the examiner. In a small way having my instructor in the car with me may be a plus point since if I was to handle a manoeuvre or road situation poorly or less than satisfactory then at least my instructor could explain that in actual fact I had done that move or street a billion times before and I had been fine with it, reassuring the examiner that is was simple nerves or anxiety that slipped me up. Nevertheless this is all a few weeks away and many more lessons so I am not too thoughtful of it yet.
You know what else is only a few weeks away? The kids going back to feckin' school - Well yes, and no I cannot yet sympathise the pain and torture of Peppa Pig on repeat but I am sure I will some day. No its soon going to be my birthday. Urgh! A whole twenty-five years on this planet. That's more than a quarter of my possible lifetime already gone. Poof! Disappeared! But it would seem as though I simply cannot wait until my Alice in Wonderland inspired thirtieth Birthday Party. I want one now. So why not. Well the answer is that in all fairness I couldn't think of any reasoning not to have one, apart from the money it would cost me. I need to be careful though as Mr. Warehouse has only just got a permanent and full-time role so we will be going a few weeks with little money so I need to go easy on the plans. Maybe we shall save the Flamingos and fireworks for my twenty-sixth?
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Pulling into my road after my driving lesson on Friday evening I felt OK about the last couple of hours handling lots of town driving and weekend traffic. Conducting a near perfect parallel park outside my little flat I turned off the engine and took my Ugg-clad feet off the pedals and relaxed.
"So where was it that you went for the operation?" My instructor asked me. Confused I worried what he was on about. I mean I had a bandage on my arm where I had my Implant replaced the following evening, but I wasn't sure what he meant by that statement.
"I'm sorry I am not sure I understand?" I asked timidly.
"Well that's the best I have seen you drive. Ever! So where was the personality transplant done?" My Instructor replied, chuckling to himself. Thankfully I took a sigh of relief and explained that I thought things had been a bit jittery on the pedal control since I was wearing heavy winter boots with thick soles but my instructor reassured me and said that I should probably start calling them my 'Lucky Boots'. We talked for another few moments about my upcoming test and what it would entail. Suddenly I realised that my actual real-life driving test was in a matter of weeks. Six-weeks and three days to be precise. And yes, I am crapping myself.
I am honestly actually looking forward to it, even though it has come round so fast. I am stunned at how quickly I have learnt everything. I mean granted I still cannot bay-park for shit, but I figure that we will get better in time with that one, but all the manoeuvres I was dreading; Emergency stop, Reverse round a corner and Parallel parking I am all fairly OK with but for some odd reason I have got worse as time goes on with my bay-parking. It feels like only yesterday I was getting in the car for the first time and being pleased that I had driven home or that I pulled out onto a busy road for the first time, now I am less than two-months from finding out whether I have passed my test or not. Eeeek!
I am not expecting to pass first time. I mean obviously it would be a bonus for me as I wouldn't have to shell out another sixty-something-quid in order to retake my test but I acknowledge that realistically the odds will be forever stacked against my favour. An average of seventy-percent of people taking their driving test for the first time will fail, according to my instructor anyway, so the likelihood of me failing is slightly inevitable. My Father always taught me one good thing at least and that was that if I set myself up for failure and prepare for all the horror that it brings, anything else will be a bonus. I suppose in a squaddie sort of way it makes sense, I'm just hoping I have taken everything on board and get a pass first time!
Something else that I will have to consider is if I should bring my instructor along for my test itself. It would be my choice on the day if I wanted him there, watching me from the back seats of my White Beema. (Which I have since hugged, knowing now that it will be the very same car I take my Exam in. I don't know why, I just thought examiners had their own testing cars?) I am erring on the side of caution here as I would prefer for obvious reasons not to be judged by two people, one whom I have come to know rather well, but also I am thinking about some of the things my instructor said to me on Friday evening after my lesson. He explained that not only does he like to become familiar with the body language and conducts of a Driving Exam but also what roads they take so he can show and practise with other learners. He also talked through the interesting fact that once an examiner has finished and is making their decision on whether I am a road-worthy person, if for any reason the examiner is unsure on whether I am capable of certain situations or is unsure of how I handled what happened during my forty-minute Exam, my instructor was right there in the back seats of the vehicle so can judge as well for himself how I handled it, either agreeing or disagreeing with the examiner. In a small way having my instructor in the car with me may be a plus point since if I was to handle a manoeuvre or road situation poorly or less than satisfactory then at least my instructor could explain that in actual fact I had done that move or street a billion times before and I had been fine with it, reassuring the examiner that is was simple nerves or anxiety that slipped me up. Nevertheless this is all a few weeks away and many more lessons so I am not too thoughtful of it yet.
You know what else is only a few weeks away? The kids going back to feckin' school - Well yes, and no I cannot yet sympathise the pain and torture of Peppa Pig on repeat but I am sure I will some day. No its soon going to be my birthday. Urgh! A whole twenty-five years on this planet. That's more than a quarter of my possible lifetime already gone. Poof! Disappeared! But it would seem as though I simply cannot wait until my Alice in Wonderland inspired thirtieth Birthday Party. I want one now. So why not. Well the answer is that in all fairness I couldn't think of any reasoning not to have one, apart from the money it would cost me. I need to be careful though as Mr. Warehouse has only just got a permanent and full-time role so we will be going a few weeks with little money so I need to go easy on the plans. Maybe we shall save the Flamingos and fireworks for my twenty-sixth?
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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