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The dreaded M.O.T.
Once again in the UK the time to have the annual mechanical check of your car, otherwise known as the M.O.T. [Ministry of Transport], comes round and a feeling of nervousness comes over all car owners other than those in possession of a brand new motor. What will it reveal? Will it cost me more than I can afford? Will they find something so serious the car is banned from the road until said fault is rectified? The unknowns crowd your consciousness, and you leave the car with the M.O.T. garage with a sense of doom, these guys have ultimate power over your life! You go away and the day drags by, you are unable to concentrate and keep wondering if they have started yet, are they under the car, have they discovered that little bit of rot you cleaned down and smeared with dirty grease to hide it? Have they finished, and are they even now writing out the fail ticket? The phone rings. Your stomach clenches. You don't want to answer it, but know you must. 'Hallo?' It's someone else, not the garage, relief. You try to concentrate on the call but your mind is with your car in the cold garage with strangers, defenceless. When the garage finally calls, you are past tense, you have reached a plateau of rsignation, you know it's failed and the bill will be huge to fix it and make it legal, it just remains to hear how much. 'That's all done sir, there were a couple of little things, oil filter needed replacing, a grease nipple was bent, all ok now, you can come and collect any time'. The relief is overwhelming, your car isn't banned from the road, you will be driving it again as soon as you can walk to the garage and collect it! The tension drains away, it's all over - until the next time. My car just passed its M.O.T. without much wrong, it goes on and on like this, I buy new tyres when they wear thin, I put fuel in, I check the oil which never seems to need topping up, I treat it with respect, never throwing it about the road, never cornering too fast, never accelerating too hard, I nurse the car with care. And each year I still expect the worst. |
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May, 2012
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