What a sad and poignant day!
This afternoon, we finally bid a snot-nosed and tear-stained farewell to GULG, our wee battlewaggon for the past six or seven years.
After fucking me about so much all week - with not turning up when they should and not ringing me to tell me beforehand - that I was about to tell them to fuck off and re-advertise GULG on eBay, the folks who bought him last Sunday finally turned up to collect him this lunchtime. Luckily I was able to nip home between campus switching at work to await their arrival.
GULG sold for a measley £311. in spite of the fact he’s got no MOT on him that’s a feckin’ bargain I can tell you. I’ve never had such a reliable wee motor. He barely let me down ever, in all the time I had him. So I was even more insulted when the guy turned up, handed me £300 and said “Three hundred wasn’t it?”
“Three hundred and eleven” I reminded him helpfully through gritted teeth “But I’ll let you off the eleven quid. Use it to put some diesel in on yer way home”
And that was it. The buyer got behind the wheel and off he went. The whole deal was done in under a minute. The bloke wasnae interested in the ‘guided tour’ of the motor because, as I suspected and he confirmed, they’d just bought him to break for parts. So poor GULG will be no more. As a bereaved parent I can only try to console myself with the thought that he will die so that other Troopers may live.
So farewell then GULG! We had some good times in you and we had some bad times [T’was after all, just after we got GULG that Conor got put down, so one of our earliest journeys in GULG was to the PDSA for that ordeal].
Herman - you are now officially the big ugly metal basket into which all my motoring eggs have been, perhaps foolishly, placed.