Gary Nafziger wrote of finding a selection of badges in his TR
glovebox and concluded by asking, "Does anyone else have a story of
treasures found in old cars??"
Mmmm, I wonder if this is appropriate?
Fellow Triumph Area Sales Manager (in 1969, name and region withheld)
had a wife of charming countenance, impeccable breeding and an
outstanding dress sense.
She was a delightful person and one of whom I still remember today
with the greatest platonic affection and respect.
She was a 'stunner' in the best traditions.
One day she turned up at the London Showroom without warning or prior
arrangement to find husband having a gentlemanly and totally
un-business related conversation with the undersigned.
"Oh, darling," said she, gently kissing him on the cheek on arriving
at his side, "I just thought I'd call in so we can have lunch
somewhere?"
"Have you by any chance seen my brooch? I think it must have come off
my jacket when we left the Jones's on Saturday
night. While you've been away, I turned the house upside down looking
for it - but I can't find it"
"Er, yes. I might have. Found a few things in the car when I vacuumed
it this morning on my way down from Coventry. Stuffed them all in the
glovebox. Here, take the keys - the car's outside."
With a winning smile that had all of us fainting at the knees, she
tripped out of the crowded showroom, full of people admiring the newly
announced Stag and made for the kerb, against which the month old 2000
was parked.
Moments later, the peace and tranquility of the august surroundings
were shattered.
In the very best Prima Donna traditions, she started her outburst by
the showroom main entrance and advancing across the floor with an
expression of considerable hostility, held high and at arms length in
her fingertips, a pair of more than flimsy and very frilly
undergarments modelled for the feminine gender, for the wearing of.
Spectators were quickly and irretrievably forced to the conclusion the
article under review was in no way the property of the lady holding
them aloft for all to see.
The pitch of her stentorian tones almost shattered the mirrored wall
across the rear of the showroom and in the most devastating terms (in
which she never once minced her words, repeated herself or resorted to
any form of profanity) she clearly wanted to know further details of
the owner and the circumstances surrounding the arrival of this
underwear in the glovebox of her shortly to be divorced husband's
Triumph 2000 company car.
When the initial onslaught finished and she had paused to take breath,
I think everyone felt that if they were unaware up to then of the
actual meaning of the saying, "Hell knoweth no fury than that of a
woman scorned" - it was now as clear as day.
It certainly was to me!
I think the decree absolute was granted about three months later.
While extremely sympathetic towards her dilemma, what grieved me most
was that her return to the showroom preceded (by about ten feet) one
of my prospects who had just arrived to sign along the line that was
dotted - and I not only lost the sale but the commission as well.
Unfortunately, this was a peripheral issue upon which the Judge
declined to comment when pronouncing the Decree Nisi ... and I never
did learn how those knickers actually did get in that glovebox.
Suffice it to say that all 2000's did have exceptionally wide and very
comfortable reclining front seats - so I think I can take an educated
guess.
Jonmac
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