Body Shop

After several days of hearing my suspension knocking when driving over rough roads, I finally decided that something was wrong with my shock absorbers. I rang Kwik-Fit who said to bring it in anytime. That was yesterday. I went in at lunchtime and was told they couldn't fit me in. I went back again at 9am today to be told it would take a couple of hours.

So I went trailing round Barnsley. It rained. I was already suicidal when I returned to Slow-Fit to be told the front springs had broken and parts had been sent for. I waited. For two hours (my car had already been up on the ramps for three hours). By 3pm, when they eventually told me the wrong parts had been delivered and it would be another couple of hours - I started shouting indiscriminately, flailing my arms about like a big girl.

I made them order me a taxi home, and said I'd collect it tomorrow. I think wasting almost a full day in their grotty office, with busted seats, a vending machine that only serves oxtail soup with milk and sugar, and reading a 1986 copy of Kustom Kar from cover to cover, makes you appreciate the finer things in life.

Like therapy.