Carole went off on a drive today, taking the Beast – now named Milo – out for a drive to her friend’s house because she had a huge heap of baby shower presents to drop off.
She’d not been looking forward to it, that was for sure. At the start of the week it looked like she’d be attempting to get there through huge swathes of snow. Or, more correctly, not getting there at all and to hell with it all through huge swathes of snow. But the weather held off from depositing any of the white stuff, instead favouring turning the air bloody cold for several days.
So off she went.
I kind of knew how long she’d be. Roughly.
Just as I was starting to wonder where she was, she rang – and, I’ll be honest, seeing “Carole” flash up on the house phone when she’s out and about has not always been a good sign (who can forget Pedro, a car in which the engine used to die completely if you braked and cornered, for example) – to say that a lorry had jack-knifed and that she’d taken a detour. Which meant that she was, as she put it, “a bit lost.” As it happens, she came out very near to her parents so all was good. But the car does have sat nav built in to it, so I need to give her some lessons on the tech front. That and I had to hang up on her, not because she was doing that whole romantic “no, you hang up first…” stuff but more because she didn’t know how to hang up the call from her end.
All the worries about driving the car are out of the window. They’re dealt with. Apart from the width thing, because Milo is a chonky boi, and I don’t think either of us have completely gotten our heads around that but only one of us is a terrible judge of size and scale. Now all the problems lie in the insane amount of tech inside the car. Everything we’ve had up to this point have been like kid’s go karts compared to this monstrosity.
We need to sit in the car and set it to stuff so that Carole can do things without too much effort if I’m not there. When I’m there I can key shizz into the sat nav and whatever else (to date, mainly dick about with the radio and setting the clock properly) but we need to set up some favourites and what-have-you for the next time a lorry unexpectedly jack-knifes in the time it takes to drop off baby shower presents.
It’s weird. A pandemic lockdown is the worst time to buy a car, it seems. Not only is it a bit weird not being able to sit in things and do test drives and what-have-you, you also don’t drive the new car as much as you would if you’d bought it outside of a lockdown.
I mean, I don’t even think we’ve dabbled with what we can do when a phone is connected via USB – apparently many-a-thing. And I’m supposed to be a nerdy tech guy.