I really want to own a van. Thats the plan.
I’ve got no need for a van. Truth be told, my real job has nothing van related whatsoever. I’d just love to be a man with a van. To be pretend to be a tradesman on a job. To be a van man! I’ve always imagined, if I own a van, i’ll be member of a secret van society? Maybe there’s a secret code, a nod or a secret fuel pump at mates rates? Maybe it’s like being a mason? I was interested to see the possibilities.
So this week I plucked up the courage and went to my local van dealer. Just to look. To pretend to be a bloke in need of a van...
I made it clear to Arthur Daly in the forecourt (he was even smoking a cigar), that i was strictly taking a quick look. I even walked with a slight swagger in a vanny blokey way. The dealer said...”yeah fine...what’s ur trade mate? What do you need to use it for?”
Oh, no! Rumbled! I’m not any trade, i’m not even a proper bloke!
“Erm, i’m not a tradesman, I just wanted to look at vans” I said. Suddenly with my guard down, it didn’t make sense to hang about.
It was then I realised something. I’m not a van man. I’d never pull it off. I’d always be found out!
Better stick to renting a van for the time being. At least until my application to the lodge is accepted.
The plan is...stick to cars.
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