Who cares? Cars aren't important to me, they just have to work, be cheap to fix, cheap to run and fit a pushchair in the boot.
Well.....a pushchair, two camping chairs, a baby back-carrier, balls, wellies, buckets and spades, bags of clothes for the charity shop I never manage to get to.
But back to the point. If I'm going to run my own business, my car is going to start giving out signals about the kind of person I am, the company I run and most importantly whether or not I'm successful. People will judge me on it and for the first time it might matter.
So I asked a friend, what does my car say about me?
"It's says you're a mum" was her simple reply. And why?
"Because it's full of dents and scratches down the side"
Well surely that just says I either live in a pretty dodgy area or I'm a terrible driver. She disagrees.
According to her the scratches and dents show that I've got other things to worry about. That the crying baby I'm trying to fit into the too-small trolley is taking all my attention, so I don't notice the trolley bash against my door, repeatedly.
That the loud screaming in the back of the car and the even louder music (to drown it out) prevent me from hearing the scrapes along the wall as I speed reverse into the drive.
And the nursery rhyme actions in my rear view mirror to entertain the smiling sing-a-longa baby in the back seat disturbed me long enough to miss the hedge I just reversed into. (twig meets reverse lights - ouch)
Ok I get it. It's not very new, it's not very flash and it's covered in scratches. It screams public sector, it screams working mum.
But change my car because of what it says about me and pretend to be something I'm not? I'd rather take the train.
|Does my dick look big in this?|