Re: Poorly Written Article @ Lost all faith
" ... many people from the 80's may recall that wierd feeing when you realise you have sat in the wrong car (Vauxhall Cavalier was mine)"
Yep - Vauxhall Chevette and Ford Fiesta here! There is no elegant way of extracting yourself from that:
"Why won't the ignition switch work?" [usually less worn than door-lock] (Rock steering wheel back and forth a few times. Peer under column.)
"Shit! Lock must be broken!" (Reach for door handle to get out.)
"Hold on. Where have those furry dice/womens' shoes/deodorant trees come from?" (Odd sense of reality fading. Vague suspicions of alternative universes become more concrete.)
"Eerrrmm - I don't remember parking this close to that wall/lamp-post/identical model of car with familiar number plate ..." (Sudden bowel-loosening realisation that you are, in actual fact, in *someone else's car*. Intimate appreciation of the meaning of the phrase "Feeling the colour draining out your face").
"Right. Don't panic. No-one knows what you've done. Pretend you have found *the thing* you were looking for. *Calmly* get out of the car." (Heart pounding loud enough to set the suspension resonating. Cold sweat forming all over.)
"Now, relock the door." (Shit! It isn't as easy.)
"No - on the button!" (Reopen door in as unsuspicious way as possible, do the combination of handle and button.)
"Now, walk back the way you came so that it is obvious you 'just wanted to get something from the car'." (Resist temptation to whistle whilst walking round corner. Wait what seems like five minutes, not looking suspicious at all.)
"Take off your jacket/jumper so no-one will recognise you as you walk back to your own car and drive off ... very ... carefully." (Try to forget the utter hideousness of it all until some bastard on El Reg reminds you of it ...)
Biting the hand that feeds IT
