I am a middle aged man with a Volvo.
Deep down inside however still beats the same heart that, at seventeen, made
me do a lot of very silly things in the name of rebellion.
The picture at right is my car. Parked in a space clearly marked "Lord Mayor
Only". (It's painted on the parking space, you can't see it due to 1.5
tonnes of middle-class hardware obscuring the view. But trust me, it was
there). It was like a flashing beacon, calling out across the years to my 17
year old self - "The Man is saying you can't park there. You're not going to
stand for that, are you?"
My travelling companion was like a cat on hot bricks about the whole heinous
crime. Me? I desperately wanted the Big Cheese himself to turn up and ask me
to move. As it turned out, our esteemed leader didn't actually appear, so I
guess it qualifies as a victimless crime.
Yes I know it's childish, yes I know that I should know better at my age and
yes I know that it was entirely pointless.
But the small part of my heart that will forever be seventeen was happy.
sneaky,sneaky volvo driver I love it!
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