Ah well, thatÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s it for another year. MOT over with. No advisories. No ifs or buts. ItÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s all on paper as well. And as has been said elsewhere, it doesnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t matter a damn. I asked the tester what I should produce if pulled up by the police. He said Ã¢â‚¬Å“Pulled by the fuzz? That can be painful, wait until he lets go before you wince and whatever you do, donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t cross your legsÃ¢â‚¬Â. So it seems that if a keystroke has been missed you are not legal until you can prove otherwise. No matter what the mild-mannered and minimal-coiffeur police officer offers in that non-patronising, gently humoured initial address he took so much trouble over at Hendon.
It wasnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t the same tester as last year. This one hadnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t left his delightfully decorative barbed wire round his neck. And, although it was obvious heÃ¢â‚¬â„¢d forgotten where heÃ¢â‚¬â„¢d parked his razor for a few days, his face was about as fertile as Atacama. Just the occasional random sprouting Ã¢â‚¬Ëœtwixt the arid expanses. I was thankful he hadnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t explored the Ã¢â‚¬ËœExotica Erotica RangeÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ of gel.
Seem to regard the MOT as a second, honorary birthday these days. I know H.M. has two and I seem to have accumulated more than my fair share. I was in Debenhams last week when I caught sight of myself in one of those convex mirrors. Oh yes they are - they must be - they make you look fatter than you ever could be. I realised I was admiring some stretch denim trousers with elasticated waist and thinking `ooh, they look comfortable. Plenty of Hammersmith Palais as wellÃ¢â‚¬â„¢. Fortunately, nobody was looking. Other than CCTV of course. But they donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t know me. Although, you never know.