Drago
Legendary Member
- Location
- Suburban Poshshire
Regular followers of my ramblings know I recently acquired a Ford Fusion, attracted as I was by it's all round cheapness. The smell of wee and cabbage is bearable, worth it for the bonus of acquiring such a fine example of a low mileage car for £700.
Anyway, to me its a car. Cheap, reliable, occasional transport.
They never sold very well when new as they cost near in as much as a Focus, which seems a strange ploy for what is essentially an over inflated fiesta. This means they never sold well by Ford standards, and while it's hardly rare you don't see them every day either.
Until last week.
I came out the Doctors to see an old boy parking his dark blue Fusion next to my light blue example. As he passed me he said "morning, nice car" and gave me a thumbs up.
Later that morning I was driving through another local village and this chap was coming then other way, grinning inanely and waving like a loon. Then again that afternoon.
And the following day.
And every time I venture out thereafter.
I'm now frightened to go out for fear of bumping into my stalker again. Should I buy another car, or should I just accept the local chapter of the Ford Fusion pensioners have accepted me as one of their own, and I should drape a chequered picnic blanket across the rear seat forthwith?
Anyway, to me its a car. Cheap, reliable, occasional transport.
They never sold very well when new as they cost near in as much as a Focus, which seems a strange ploy for what is essentially an over inflated fiesta. This means they never sold well by Ford standards, and while it's hardly rare you don't see them every day either.
Until last week.
I came out the Doctors to see an old boy parking his dark blue Fusion next to my light blue example. As he passed me he said "morning, nice car" and gave me a thumbs up.
Later that morning I was driving through another local village and this chap was coming then other way, grinning inanely and waving like a loon. Then again that afternoon.
And the following day.
And every time I venture out thereafter.
I'm now frightened to go out for fear of bumping into my stalker again. Should I buy another car, or should I just accept the local chapter of the Ford Fusion pensioners have accepted me as one of their own, and I should drape a chequered picnic blanket across the rear seat forthwith?
