Every now and then, I try to buy Richard Hammond’s E-Type Jag. It’s not actually for sale, and I don’t really want it anyway. I just like winding him up by making insultingly low offers and then trying to brow-beat him into selling it to me.
Once or twice I think I’ve come close - through a combination of subterfuge, chicanery and man maths – to making him give it up. But not quite. Still, it’s a good game on a long aeroplane flight, or similar.
Trouble is, this has been going on for a long time, and it’s now become a matter of personal honour to succeed in buying Hammond’s E-Type against his will. Even though I don’t really want it. And now I have a new plan.
A few years back, I bought a bike from Hammond, and paid him using on-line banking. So he’s in there as a past payee. So what I thought I’d do is, without telling him, transfer the value of the E-Type (about £20k) to his account, and in the box where you write the details for the payee’s statement, put ‘Payment in full for E-Type Jag’. Then I’d do nothing for a year.
Hammond won’t notice this. I happen to know that his wife checks the bank statements, and she won’t be at all surprised to see another transaction relating to one of those numerous leaky heaps living in his garage. Happens all the time.
After a year, I’ll take him to the small-claims court, pointing out that I paid for the car – and here’s the bank statement to prove it – but that he’s never handed it over. Then it will be mine.
Look out for me, in it, in 2018.
Photo credit: Richard 'The Vendor' Hammond