Living with the W124 - part deux
I’ve quickly adjusted to living with my W124. My car cleaner has been given a separate bucket (exclusively to be used for
Herr Kampfpanzer) along with 3 different cloths. One
to wash the top with. One
to wash the bottom (and wheels/tyres) with and the third
to wipe it all down to dry off.
And these are in addition to what I have for myself by the way!!!
And he
will adhere to the instructions, because he walks my dog in the afternoons (when I’m not there) and is being paid a handsome little premium to be gently with the 124
the key to my happiness!
I even gathered my courage and took the car where there was unsecured parking! My heart of course skipped a beat – half dreading that I’d lose both my badges, or some nincompoop will come and gleefully run a key down one side of the body. Thankfully, my fears were unfounded and I felt like a bit of a klutz.
*But then,
what’s new with that you ask?*
I love the fact that the doors need more than a little heft to shut. My better half
invariably leaves her front door open, because she’s used to me
cussing like a sailor, if the kids or she
ever slammed the doors on our earlier cars. For the first time in my life, I’m saying things like, “Do you mind shutting the door” or even, “What’s the matter, forgot to eat *
insert appropriate meal according to time of day here*?”
It’s a wonder I’ve not had myself an a*se whupping already! It
must be the serenity inside the W124 to credit then…!
I remain protected...
And it is indeed a serene place to be in! People talk of the cabin feeling like a vault? I can safely say it feels like a tank (although a whole blasted - pun unintended, lot quieter!) And I’ve been in a tank – numerous times, therefore I am qualified to draw the comparison.
Yeah yeah…I could already see 30 chappies grinning evilly, fingers itching to start typing about how I was so full of it.
*Hah*
The other day on our way into town to meet up with some friends, there was this very strange shuddering sound – which I felt was coming from the passenger door. I was most intrigued and more than a little pained, since I’d sung all these paeans about the silent nature of the ride. Apart from which, it was just plain ticking me off… till we realized that the little shudder was coming from the front interior lights console. A gentle push upwards and voila – the cabin was back to being ummmmm silent!
For such a large car, it is actually very easy to maneuver around tight roads. Only the thought of someone rubbing up against the paintwork actually keeps me from taking it into places where I regularly took my Safari and Linea into. I’m still getting to grips with the rear end of the car – and I still struggle to judge where my a$$ is.
*That’s of course not to mention the number of times I’ve been called one, ever since the car arrived in the garage!*
However,
every single one of those bozos who’s called me an a$$ – has been frog marched down to the car, and they have all unanimously gulped and then melted like newly formed jelly. With the sole exception of one lady friend, who blurted out, “Marry me.”
I had to politely decline.
It broke her heart too.
Nevertheless.
We still remain friends! Ufff....
Small bits – on our way into a hotel lobby, security asked us to open the bonnet. A
completely reasonable request really – except that I’d forgotten that the bonnet release was in the passenger footwell. Leading to much (previously mentioned) sailor like cussing as I scrambled and scrabbled in the driver side footwell, seat and other areas, making myself look further like an a$$ (also previously mentioned!); till a little light bulb went off in the recesses of my seldom used brain.
Result being that I began furiously gesticulating to the wife –
she on the other hand thought I was having a heart attack. Made for an interesting sight I should think…till I leaned over,
inelegantly squishing myself past knees and assorted limbs, to finally pull the release handle to the
hood as the Americans would call it.
I might have imagined it, but I seem to recollect one of the security chaps mutter, “Plonker” under his breath – or the Hindi iteration of it for sure!
2.2 ltrs of driving pleasure! The unequal sized mirrors. I used to think that was just German silliness. But by God, it is a God sent! It does take a bit to get just right, so you get almost a full view of your left rear. You would still need to do a quick look over the shoulder before changing lanes, because a huge blind spot exists between the B pillar and the A pillar on the rear view mirror. But – the tucked in size is superb for the fact that
errant motorcyclists, idiot rickshaw drivers, ever rushing pedestrians and the odd damn fool do not foul with the mirror. Even when they deliberately try to! Add to that, the ruddy odd shaped mirrors do look bizarrely cool too!
One huge negative I’ve figured (after my last night sojourn) is that
Herr Kampfpanzer wears the headlight bulbs that were handed out to the Polish army in the 2nd world war.
Oh. my. God. It’s like playing a bit of a guessing game of whether the big bump you just felt
was a gap in the road, or someone you’d just dispatched to the nether world,
after having run the sorry sod over.
Osram Nightbreakers.
Tomorrow.
(I’d do it tonight but I’d probably run over most of the Goregaon street dwellers, just getting to the darned shop!!!)
It goes round and round and round...
More. Later.