How hard is it to clean a Mini?

If someone had told me that today the two of us would be taking a spin in a beautiful black convertible Mini, I’d have questioned their sources. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it but how such a thing would come about would have me baffled. But that’s exactly what happened.

A few weeks ago, when we put Max in for the big service, the normally efficient Veronica, forgot to get him cleaned. Because we had to get new brake pads fitted, she promised us a free clean to make up for it. Both inside and out. This tended to appease Mirinda who was in danger of getting very cranky at the time.

And today was the day for the big brake fix and Max clean. It was also the day for my final Talking Newspaper recording from Sweden. I thought both were manageable. They were but only just.

After dropping Max off with the ever bubbly Veronica, we headed down to Tyresö Centrum where we set up camp in the konditori opposite the big ICA where I shop every Wednesday.

While Mirinda wrote some sort of strategy document for work, I completely prepared the clippings document for Nigel (my reader this week) and me. I was using my hybrid and it wasn’t as easy without a mouse, but I did manage it and sent it off after about two hours.

We then wandered back to collect Max.

Except Max wasn’t ready yet.

As Veronica explained, the brake pads had been installed without any fuss or delay. The thing that was taking a ridiculous amount of time was the cleaning. This was happening at the business next door.

When we arrived, I spotted a little black convertible standing outside. I said to Veronica that we’d happily swap Max for it, if that would make things easier. I think this must have put a germ of an idea in her head because about half an hour later, she asked if we’d like to take it for a spin rather than just sit in reception.

After a lot of meaningless form filling out, Mirinda took the key and we settled in for a bit of a pootle.

Veronica had suggested we go for half an hour. We took the car down to Brevik, alongside the Baltic. It was fantastic. It’s been a while since we’ve enjoyed the open feeling of a top down drive. We took full advantage of the unexpected experience and didn’t get back for almost an hour.

Of course, Max wasn’t ready when we returned.

Veronica was furious. Her supervisor was more so. Everyone was saying how they were never going to use the car wash people ever again. The whole place was in an uproar. You’d think we were their only customers. If nothing else, we received some pretty personal service.

Eventually, Max was ready and the cleaning job wasn’t very good. While they’d vacuumed the footwells, none of the leather seats had been cleaned and the dash was still dusty. But, we had to get back to the puppies and I had to edit my stories for the recording, so we didn’t make any sort of fuss. We drove home.

The recording was hilarious, even if I was a bit unprepared and Nigel’s hub wasn’t working meaning he had to use his iPhone as a mobile hotspot.

Nigel is always very entertaining and had me in fits at times. I maintain he’s worse than me but Mirinda reckons it’s only because I let him be. Which means it’s my fault. Which, I suppose, makes me Gaz the Chaotic Puppet Master.

By the end of the day, having been stressed about the car then even more stressed about the recording, I collapsed. After making dinner. I’m not used to being stressed. I don’t like it.

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