Am I the only person in the world who is constantly disappointed with the drivers of little sports cars?
I mean, every day I drive to work and back, amble to and from the shops and on occasion even wander further afield. Yet hardly ever do I feel any sense of well-being when driving past smart cars or luxury vehicles.
I live in hope that just once the driver will match the promise. Maybe this time they will be a gorgeous female model or a smart suited city gent tanned and handsome. But no, invariably they are old, dry skinned, fat or far too skinny with all the life leached out of them. Maybe that’s why they look so very unhappy with their lot. Which is a shame when you think about it.