Friday, 23 October 2015
I've always been good at this, whether it's been not telling my parents something awful, not opening potentially unpleasant bills, not arguing with my best friend - you know the sort of thing. My husband is the opposite, he likes to tackle a problem face to face (if it's a person) and doesn't let grass grow under his feet. Recently, we made the classic error of buying an elderly second-hand car: it was something my husband has been hoping to find for months - a little 4x4 Pajero to launch his boat. He found his heart's desire, but it was far away while we were visiting his brother up north, and he didn't get the chance to examine it minutely himself. He decided to buy it after much humming and hawing when we got home. Part of the bargain was that it would come with a Roadworthy Certificate. However, once it arrived, many problems were uncovered which should never have passed the roadworthy test people. One of these was that two engine mounts were completely broken and also broken were both 'tie-rod ends'. The electric window washers didn't work either. There were other things too. After a couple of weeks of trying to speak to the slippery dealer, he finally agreed to compensate us with a money amount. It never arrived. Eventually, my husband, exasperated, threatened to report him to the Motor Industry Federation and we found out the name of the local press. While my husband made this course of action clear on the phone early one morning (minus his hearing aids which caused him to shout), I retreated two rooms away and put on the radio and the TV as loud as I could. Still hearing every word, in desperation I grabbed some paper towel and stuffed it into my ears. This worked. When I heard him slam down the phone and make his way back to the kitchen, I hurriedly returned the TV and radio volumes to normal and carried on making the breakfast. Guess what he said when he came in...
"Why is there paper towel in your ears?" I got a lecture concerning timidity but all was forgotten as next day the money was in the bank. I had hoped that the dealer would now be scrutinised by the MIF, but my husband was chagrined to find that copy of his letter plus photos did not reach the Federation people: 'email undeliverable' for some reason.