‘Dude,’ I grimaced, as my best friend slowed down at an amber light. ‘Your brakes sound horrible.’
‘Ah, they’ve got a bit of life left in them yet,’ he shrugged. ‘I’m too busy to go to a mechanic.’
‘Do you even have any brake pads left?’ I frowned, glancing out of window like I was going to see residual sparks or something.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What do you mean “what do I mean”?’
‘Your brake pads don’t wear away,’ he frowned. ‘That’s silly.’
‘Uh…’ I frowned. ‘They 100% do.’
‘Pffft,’ he chuckled. ‘Next you’re gonna tell me the engine oil runs out too.’
‘You’ve never changed your oil?!’ I gaped, wishing I’d never gotten into this deathtrap of a car.
‘A joke is a joke, Brad,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘But you can’t make it so obvious.’
‘At least your mechanic tops it up every time you get a log book service. Lockleys mechanics follow log books to a tee,’ I muttered, more to myself than to him.
‘What’s that?’
‘I said—’
‘No, what’s a log book service?’ he blinked at me.
‘You’ve never gotten a log book service?!’
‘Why do you keep making that face?’ he frowned. ‘Everyone knows cars just look after themselves. That’s why they’re our best invention.’
‘First off,’ I glared, ‘everyone knows the printing press was the invention with the most significant impact on human knowledge and understanding.’
‘Fair call,’ he nodded.
‘Second of all – get your car looked at by a qualified mechanic!’
‘Woah, woah!’ he held his hands up defensively. ‘Relax would you?’
‘How can I relax, when you’d rather brake your car on bare rims than get a professional brake pad replacement!’
‘I told you,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t need to—’
‘Yes you do!’ I screeched. ‘That’s it, let me out.’
‘What? Brad, we’re in the middle of an intersection,’ he frowned. ‘It’s dangerous to get out of the car here.’
‘No,’ I shook my head and opened the door. ‘Trust me – it’s nowhere near as dangerous as staying in this thing!’