My interest for cars in general is pretty low. I’m impressed that they exist, but I’m not in the habit of remembering model names or class numbers. Unfortunately for me, every car I’ve ever bought has been a lemon; this obviously doesn’t increase my enthusiasm for the motor industry. Today, for the second time in a week, I woke up to a flat tyre – seriously, two punctures in less than four days. The first tyre was penetrated by a metal screw, the second by a wooden off-cut. It was as if I’d been driving through a hardware store.
I told my friend about my misfortune. “There’s no such thing as a lemon,” he laughed. “You’re just taking too much crap from these cars. One tyre falls apart, you address the problem, and they all start taking it easy. You need to be more demanding. I’ve had my car eight years and it’s never been serviced. It just knows I wouldn’t stand for that kind of shit.”
He had a reasonable point – I’ve often been told I’m too lenient.
I told my friend about my misfortune. “There’s no such thing as a lemon,” he laughed. “You’re just taking too much crap from these cars. One tyre falls apart, you address the problem, and they all start taking it easy. You need to be more demanding. I’ve had my car eight years and it’s never been serviced. It just knows I wouldn’t stand for that kind of shit.”
He had a reasonable point – I’ve often been told I’m too lenient.