ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
“I need a rim job,” he said.
“Can I get one here?”
Even the spare space-saving tyre in the boot of Darcy Mulligan’s late model Infinity Q50 has been scuffed beyond roadworthiness.
According to friends, the 28-year-old is living proof that a high income cannot buy you spatial awareness and the ability to operate a motor vehicle without reversing into the gutter each time you park.
For the second time this year, Mulligan has found himself in the Betoota Heights Bob Jane T-Mart asking the man behind the desk for a rim job.
“Yeah,” said the sales clerk.
“We can rim you, Darcy. Come back at 4pm and your rims will be looking brand new again.”
With a large sigh, he joined our reporter in the queue down the Jones Avenue taxi rank.
“My ‘mates’ always laugh at my rims,” he said.
“They say, ‘Hey Darce! Did you lend your car to fucking Ray Charles or something? Every panel has a fucking dent in it and there’s more crushed concrete in those rims than metal alloy,’ and stuff to that effect,”
“It’s not very nice. I think they’re jealous. Laughing at me while they cut about town in their 15 year old Barinas rolling stock rims. Being able to drive well is a byproduct of toxic masculinity. Guess what, guys? Some men are bad drivers and some women are better drivers than me. The joke isn’t funny, get a life.”
More to come.
