An overdue poetic offering from yours truly today. Inspired by that most dreaded of annual events - the M.O.T! I think there is only the dental check-up that induces more anxiety in me than putting the car into the garage every October and then playing the awful waiting game to see if it will pass or not. I always spend the time between taking the car to the mechanic and the ensuing hours afterwards pondering on what could have gone wrong and, more importantly, how much is it going to sting me this time.
But it’s got to be done and so last week, with great trepidation we took our faithful old jalopy – Zebedee (don’t ask) to our chosen testing station. Whilst we were biting our nails and drinking more coffee than would be good for anyone, I found time to write this poem.
So, without further ado, here is…
M.O.T
Oh bugger! It’s that time once more, the car is with the mechanic.
Praying to God that it will pass. And trying hard not to panic.
I’ve got an idea the tyres may fail. And perhaps the front brake pads.
And the suspension might be faulty. I can feel it in me nads.
The emissions will be sky high, teach me to buy a diesel.
Got it on the cheap you see, oh I’m a penny-pinching weasel.
How could I know it would come to this? A massive garage bill
For a clapped-out old French banger that’s so far over the hill.
Ok, so it’s gone round the clock twice now, still gets me from A to B.
So why do I feel like a criminal when it’s due it’s M.O.T.
I’ll bet you that the front springs are shot and badly need replacing.
And the exhaust will be hanging by a thread or falling from its casing.
I can picture the look on the mechanic’s face and the shaking of his head.
“Your headlamps are not working mate, and the battery’s nearly dead.”
He’ll lecture me about the wiper blades and lack of engine oil.
The washer bottle won’t be right and there’ll be issues with the coil.
And then he’ll present me with the bill and the list of mechanical woes.
It’s going to cost me an arm and a leg and maybe a couple of toes.
But here we go, brace yourself and face it like a man.
You can always get a bank loan or perhaps a driving ban.
Hold on, what’s that the mechanic has just said, he’s given it a pass
Wahey! Woohoo and Whoopy-do, DVLA can kiss my airbags.
Unfortunately, unlike the happy ending of this poem, Zebedee (a 2010 Renault Scenic) needed a bit of work doing and a new battery, which came to over £350. Yikes! Still, that’s her done now and she’s roadworthy for another 12 months.
I keep thinking it could have been so much worse than that for a vehicle of her advancing years but do you know what, she’s actually a great little runner and a bloody good car overall. She’s a 6-geared road warrior on the motorways and she laughs in scorn at even the steepest of inclines as if they were mere bumps in the road. Ploughing up them in third before leaving them in her dust.
So, £350 is a small price to pay for another year of happy motoring.