A friend and I took off for the afternoon and as we bombed down a dual carriageway I noticed that the oil warning light was blinking at me. I wasn't at all sure what to do next, but my level-headed friend said I should pull over. It was too late; the damage had been done. I'd never realised that a car needed oil. The knock-on effects were costly.
Not only did I have to save up for a replacement engine; obviously I got found out for bunking off school.
At least I've learnt my lesson; these days I regularly check the oil level on my Metro. Well, I have to; the oil warning light blinks at me just about all the time. Not only that, the petrol gauge is on the blink, so I constantly have to top up with petrol for fear of running out. And the speedometer plays up, too. So as I drive around I'm in a state of constant anxiety. Will it or won't it break down? At least those problems I can blame on the car. The rest is my fault.
I admit it is a bit of a tip inside, but I'm so busy that I have lunch on the move and the debris ends up in the footwells. The boot looks like a cross between a newsagent's and an off-licence. That's because I cart around old newspapers and bottles for recycling.
The great thing about having a scruffy car, which even has moss growing on the roof, is no one ever bothers me for a lift.
Emma Norman (daughter of Barry) is presenter of the 'Radio Times Show' on UK Style, showing daily at 2pm and 6pm. She was talking to James Ruppert.Reuse content