I've made some notes, but I relied on memory to make those notes so I may remember other bits as I turn those notes to text, and those notes may become jumbled and the time line may not be a line, more a squiggly little hair that interweaves through the ether. Right, got that? Good. Now replace it with: Think I remember most of this week, but may not be in the right order.
Tickety boo, time to start the roundabout of misfortune that has been my last week.
Straight to the point with the opener. In the last week since I updated and got the car back from Triangle cars (link to the right), I have travelled less than a mile in it. I have heard that beautiful exhaust note for about 3 minutes. I was so looking forward to going for a thrash and the excitement was nearly visible when I collected the car, but I'll go into those depths in a bit. Let's have a swift round-up of what the last few days have brought to the Floppy Throttle saga;
Triangle have done a cracking job, security seems slack but really a Mr Mayagi trainee with boobies, Halfords let us down (again), eBay comes up trumps (again), Wifey kills her car (again), Petersfield Motor Factors let us down, New sexy rear lights (don't fit), Door panels off (again), Pretty ears, Soggy carpet, Chairs through windows, Torn tops and sticky tape, Cheesey Dick (yep) and Track fun.
I got the phone call from Triangle cars to say Juliette was ready to collect at about half 5, quarter to 6 on Tuesday evening. Unfortunately, I was on the way to college so didn't have the time to spare to go home, grab keys, get the wife to run me down there, pay, collect car, get home, swap over cars again and still be at college for 6PM. Just wasn't going to happen. What actually happened is that I got the call, drove round to the garage, paid the bill, and said I'd collect it in the morning before wifelet went to work.
I'm truly not a morning person and the idea of walking any further than the few meters to my car without being stocked up with at least 2 pints of coffee makes me quiver. The concept of a brisk 10 minute walk before 7am makes me positively scared. Why on earth do people get up that early? There is no joy to be had in seeing nature wake up. I like nature to wake up, have a shower, get something to eat, apply it's beauty regime then gently lull me to the waking world.
With my eyes seemingly glued shut and my gravitational balance being lower than normal I followed my legs and ended my horrendous, coffee lacking jaunt, at Triangle. I say Triangle, my walk originally ended about 20 foot from my car. I saw the portakabin with the notice all visitors should report to security office so I did just that. I don't want some steroid hungry, Chuck Norris-a-like kicking my arse for collecting my own car, so figured saying hi and showing them the key with my name on and the Escort Cabriolet Club fob on it, may be a smart move.
As I approached the door, it opened and standing in front of me was a (albeit lovely) security officer with a book in her little hand. I don't want this to come across as patronising, truly I don't, but I'm not the biggest built of chaps and if someone bites a pringle loudly I collapse to the floor screaming "gunshot", but this ickle guard didn't fill me with dread. I felt at ease with her. I advised in my best silly o'clock voice I was picking up my car, wandered over to it and simply drove off. Didn't think much of this event until I was chatting to one of the guys at Triangle (I picked up a flat and needed a new tyre for the Mondeo). Apparantly, the "ickle girly girl" is harder than a love child born of Mr Miyagi and a Gypsy Bride, and could destroy me in seconds if she chose to. Oops.
Anyway, I got the car home and parked it up. The only thing I need to do to get the car running on the road is to pick up a heat shield so the exhaust doesn't melt the plastic bumper. Having persuaded Halfords to spend hours mixing a paint they didn't have the code for, I figured I would give them first crack at my wallet. I went in, told them I need an exhaust heat shield or protective tape and could they do it for me. No. They couldnt be arsed to even look. I tried the local motor factors and found none there either. Then I decided it may as well be an eBay moment. Saw a stunning carbon fibre jobbie and set my heart on it but no stock at this time which is annoying as I WANT TO DRIVE THE CAR!
So settled instead on heat proof aluminium / weird stuff on a sticky sticky sheet. Ordered that and a couple of days later it turned up. Cracking. So with scissors on hand I have set about crafting a heat shield and it doesnt look too bad. several layers are built up and if the blurb is to be believed then this portion of bumper will now reflect heat at up to 500 degrees. Thats hotter than I intend to take it to, but reassuring to know.
So we now have 1 car, MOT'd, Taxed, Insured, big exhausted up and with the appropriate fire safety precautions in place. Time for a thrash? No. Unfortunately, the wife has left either her stereo or lights or similar on having parked behind it and killed the battery again. It is time for a new battery and we've noticed it is a bit pants for some time so not really a shock. I have other pressing things to do so Gruff took Mrs Savage to the car parts and accesories place in Petersfield (the one by the train station car park). Shes asked for a battery, told them the car and they have advised her to spend a bargain £26 quid on their "saver" option. So she did. IT'S ONLY A SAVER OPTION IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO DRIVE BACK TO BLOODY PETERSFIELD TO CHANGE IT FOR THE RIGHT ONE!!! They supplied completely the wrong battery for the car. Their guess (!) was that the battery should have little turrets where the cables hoop over the top, but the Cabbies we have are little squares with bolts holding the cables. She returned it, they charged an extra £20 or so for the right one and sent her on her way.
I've put the new battery in and it starts fine but by this time it is Thursday evening and I have to go to college again. So no driving the Scumrunner.
At any point I have various bits on order for the cars, for my work, or simply for me and at times I get so bloody confused I havent got a clue what I'm waiting for. This was apparent when Royal mail knocked (yes, they figured it out this time) on my door with a strange parcel. It wasn't big enough to be a complete set of seats so I was quite excited. When I opened it up, there was a lovely set of clear rear light clusters. Bargain £10. Including bulbs.
I strolled out to the scummer and removed the drivers side rear light cluster, plugged the new connector in, pushed and whacked and tapped and (honestly I did) asked it really nicely to fit. Looks the same shape, but the bugger will not go. Then once connected, the lights didn't work anyway. Bugger. Not happy about that but they'll either fit on the wifeys (a slightly newer model) or go back on eBay.
Whilst I'm feeling in a hands on mood, I figured now would be the time to get Juliettes ears changed over. The white cosworth leccy mirrors in the place where previously aged purples once sat. Quite some time back when the sound system was being abused by me, the door panels came on and off on a really regular basis so I'm quite adept at it now. For the new mirrors to fit I need to thread various wires and a control unit through panels and thats a pain in the arse. Swift version - job jobbed, pain in the arse and various cable ties used in places where they probably shouldn't be any.
I figured I would have a look at how easy it is to change over the seats and it is a doddle. Atrue piece of proverbial cake. 5 bolts and done. simples. No. Where I have parked up to do this job I am really restricted. I am just so grateful that the doors do not have pillars. To unbolt the seats is easy enough, but trying to remove them through a window is bloody hard work. Next time you sit in a car look at the window, look at the seat, imagine the seat weighing the same as a 32 year old Scumrunner (it's really not too far off) and then try to picture yourself pushing that seat through the window on your own. It's a bloody mission and a half I can tell you.
Having got the passenger seat out and safely in my loft, I looked at the dark patch of carpet it had been hiding. As you remember, there was a moisture issue, but this has got beyond the realms of "moist". This is now wetter than a Nun at the Erotica show. This is welled up like the eyes of a child when you tell him you just ran over his grandmother (I would imagine). I have taken it upon myself to lift the carpet slightly to see what nightmare it hides. Not only is the carpet completely soaked, the underlay is rotten also.
I know I was unsure as to the correct point of action last time when I was considering this, now, I know the carpet is of no use to anyone. It has to go. I was going to use it as a template for my Indian Restaurant carpet but unfortunately it was so sodden that it tore when lifted. To get the carpet out swiftly involves removing seats so took the drivers out also. I know that the Recaros are due any day so fine, I can live another couple of days before driving this damned infatuation of a car. All carpets out, all seats out, it is quite a spacious car :)
Time to pop onto eBay to find a new carpet. I found someone breaking an RS so mailed him. Local guy, 30 quid for the carpet and underlay, come get it whenever you want. Awesome. It's only after we had exchanged mails a couple of times that I noticed the poor guys name. I am now the proud owner of a carpet sold by Mr Dick McCheese! How comedy is that name? Love it.
I've dried the car out, mopped up the puddle that had formed and settled for a cup of coffee. It's at this point that the Gods looked down and said to themselves, "he's had an easy run so far, lets piss him off." It rained. Not hard, and not long. After an hour or so I looked inside the car and there's a new puddle. Quite a big new puddle. With lots of wires in the bottom of the puddle. Lots of electric wires in the bottom of the newly formed pond to be exact.
After quite a bit of swearing I traced this leak to the rear hood. The water is coming in there, running down the electics that control the rear windows (which may explain why they don't work), and following the leads to their lowest ebb which is just behind where the passenger seat would be if we still had one.
That needs fixing before the new carpet and underlay go down. The new carpet and underlay need to go down before the new seats go in and the seats need to be in for me to use them TO DRIVE THE SODDING CAR as the old seats are in the loft and thats where the heavy buggers are gonna stay until we sell the car. I am still waiting for my new seats to turn up at the point of writing this and I am quietly contemplating new Saw film inventions to experiment on the delivery drivers of Canute Distribution Ltd. I wouldnt trust them to deliver a puchline let alone a full interior. Scum. I will update a seperate rant focusing on the misery I wish to see placed upon whoever is buggering about my arse comfort but for now, I will settle for a really unhappy face in smiley format :(
To fix the roof I have ordered some waterproof cloth tape. The idea is to build up a couple of fabric layers before sealing it with a final covering. Hopefully, that'll stop water getting in, and then I can put the insides of the car back.
Finally for this update, we now know where we are meeting up before heading to Dover. The official launch party is going to be held at that world famous, oh yes indeedy, the one, the only.... I'll tell you next time.
Donate people. Please. Cough £2 or more into the just giving kitty. It takes 1 minute and makes the lives of dying children that little bit brighter for a little while.
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