Monday 17 February 2014

An Homage to Habib.

It has been done, Habib has gone. I thought I would jump up and down (granted I really can't jump that high) in elation that I was finally rid of the most hideous car ever to grace the Bhatia drive. But in fact I actually was rather sad and on second thought I might even miss the jazziest of Jazz's. Well not that much.

I remember the day (not with a huge amount of fondness) when I was first introduce to Habib. I was being a complete and utter brat...shock. Baz and Geeta had decided to go away the weekend I was due back in Leeds and I was outraged - who at the beginning of term can get all their stuff on a train?! Considering last weekend I had the same size suitcase for one night as Annie did for 2 weeks in Thailand it is safe to say I am not a light packer. So I was up in arms that they were disappearing and anxiety began to set in when I thought I might miss Fresher's Fruity. So this all came out over dinner that I was now rideless and potentially fruityless. Inexplicably (or perhaps quit explicably) cutlery started to be banged on the table, cupboards were also banged and I was muttering profanities about BBB under my breath. I know, I know total brat behaviour - at least I am not in denial about it.

So after a good twenty minutes of ranting and raving that no one loved me and no one cared (I seriously needed a slap), the door bell rang and Baz asked me to get it. Obviously continuing brat behaviour I made some kind of sarky princess noise and quite rudely just ignored his request. The door bell rang again...one raised eyebrow from Baz and I decided that perhaps I should answer the door. Two people were at the door (I should mention that a lot of people come to the house to see Baz on work related matters and we generally scream at the top of our lungs 'Daaaaddddd someone here to see you' and leave them to it.) So following the usual etiquette I did exactly the same thing, left the two completely bewildered people in the hallway and retreated to sulk in the lounge. After a couple of minutes I was beckoned into the kitchen; in full brat mode I shouted back 'NO.' I was called again and replied in the same appalling manner. (Yes, you should be loathing me by now.) This time BBB came and physically got me from the lounge - I knew I was in trouble. I sat at the table in a big humph, crossed my arms and did my best impression of a Geeta frown. Until the following words were uttered from Baz: 'Now...I bought you a car'.

A huge big, fat slice of humble pie straight to the face. I have never wanted the ground to swalloe me up more. Not even when a pigeon shat on me in the school car park. (Hold on it gets way way worse).

After sheepishly agreeing that I would like to see it, and not quite believing the way I had behaved considering Baz had at the point of sulk already bought me the car. Head down I went out to the drive and there stood an absolute beauty. A black Golf GTI with blacked out windows. I was jumping up and down (on the inside) with glee. The kind gentleman who I thought had bought me this fab new car handed me over the key, and before I gave myself the opportunity to actually look at the fob, I pointed and pressed in the direction of the Golf. Then a faint click was heard but not from the direction I was hoping. I heard fits of giggles and as I turned around I was faced with this.

Habib. 
And so my adventures with Habib began. Habib found his name thanks to his fondest fan James Richardson who as soon as he found out that I had a hideous Honda, googled Asian named beginning with 'h'. Evidently he didn't get very far down the list before he was satisfied with Habib.

Despite deliberately sabotaging Habib on a weekly basis, I became actually rather fond of the granny mobile. And so when some vile creature smashed off my wing mirror - my first thought (and my housemates too) was what kind of person would defile a car of the elderly. 

It may not be the prettiest of cars, but as Baz frequently reminded me it was the safest car on the road - do you think he was trying to tell me something? I'm a good driver, I promise. Once I excepted Habib was much like myself, not the coolest car on the road or the most attractive and slightly confused as to whether it was trying to be a Mercedes A-Class, we learnt to love each other. I even shared him with others. We raced around Leeds in the snow and laughed at the all micros that got stuck in Headingley whilst we glided through; we could fit a lot of people in on a hangover trip to The Oak; I could actually fit (nearly) all my stuff in it when travelling to and from Leeds and most importantly the boot was big enough to hide all the new things I had bought from Geeta. And it was GREAT for roadtrips.

 On one occasion we journeyed to the corner of Scotland, Isle of Mull to be precise for New Years and with the coldest winter ever and the most amount of snow and ice, I decided LET'S DRIVE! I can't say I loved driving in the pitch black with no lights in the snow and ice whilst everyone else slept - thank god I had Celine's greatest hits to get me through. Finally we got to Edinburgh and it was time to switch the reigns I was handing over Habib to Rupert whilst I enjoyed the perks of a roomy 5 door....

Ha. Not what you thought was it. 
And then poor Habib was tortured. Rupert invented a 'game' of sorts on our way to Mull. Where he would rapidly eat a bag of cheesy doritos, turn around with a creepy look on his face and before we could figure out what he was doing lock the windows and let out the most heinous fart. There was no escape from either the stench or Rupert's cackle that followed. 

And whilst I am very much enjoying spending the money Habib has made me on new Carvela boots and stupidly priced gin (actually I'm not enjoying that part all all); I kind of miss him. However I'm sure I will get over it as soon as Baz buys me an Audi. (That's a plea BBB...I'm over the tubes I need a car...the brat is back). So I bid him a fond farewell, I hope we buy any car sent you to a good old home (literally). 

Stay tuned, I'm running out of Habib money so until Vogue pay me this will be my entertainment, and maybe some less expensive gin. 

Fatty BB xxx


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