After almost passing out with sheer delight at the first sight of your highly tempting advert promising to save some of my precious time, being a minute conscious, busy individual where spare hours in a day are an extremely limited and valuable commodity, I decided to give We Buy Any Car a once over whilst surfing the tinterweb.
I must confess, I had completely forgotten you had even existed since I’d successfully managed to rid my memory of that irritating jingle you inflicted upon the good people of Britain a few years ago, back in the days when you were still working with a much smaller budget – check you all prime time and shit!
ANY, ANY, ANY, ANY…. We buy any car, DOT COM!
Yet, despite your previous crimes against ear drums and mental health throughout the land, I was willing to forgive (if not forget), and threw myself into the time saving, car selling slipstream you promised to deliver in good faith.
As suggested by the excitable, bubbly lady on the tele-box, I hastily popped in my details, dreaming of a money spinning, time saving offer waiting to appear on screen like a shining beacon of clock reversing hope.
You know, the kind of deal that only a moron of epic proportions with far too much time on their hands could ever possibly contemplate turning down?
I have to say, I was somewhat underwhelmed with the results.
You see I must confess, I’m no Stephen Hawking, but I am slightly perplexed as to why I’d be better served saving a few minutes of my time selling my car to you for considerably less than Jim is offering just a few minutes down the road.
I’m perfectly sure Jim may not be able to reach the same light speed flying down to his local bank branch to transfer my dough as quickly as you quite proudly offer, I would however, be left stuck with the prospect of not being able to afford the deposit on the next car, pay the rent on my gaff, or feed the cat after we had completed the transaction.
My mother raised me incredibly well and I’m not without manners, so thank you for your kind offer of half a dog-chewed digestive biscuit, sixpence and ten minutes of my life back.
However, after careful consideration I’ve come to the conclusion that I think I’d prefer to have my genitalia removed with a rusty pitch fork over the prospect of watching the cat starve to death and walking the many miles as a homeless person I simply do not have the time for presently.
Whilst your mission is nothing but to nobly save people the length and breadth of the country time and effort, I feel like you’ve wasted mine on this occasion.
David Jack Taylor.
Useful ways to protect yourself from the clutches of We Buy Any Car:
- Close your eyes, put your fingers in your ears, and think happy thoughts to block out their subliminal messages
- Spend an extra few minutes out of your day to make sure you aren’t missing out on an extra £2,500+ down the road from your very own gaff
- Ask yourself how they’ve afforded to jump from shite local radio jingles to prime time TV slots in a matter of years
- Patiently wait for Jim to cough up more
You may also like:
Pin for later
Latest posts by Thinking Thrifty (see all)
- Glueing your lip – The thrifty beauty sh*t you shouldn’t try - September 16, 2019
- Recognise, don’t criticise. Even money bloggers f*ck up sometimes - September 15, 2019
- An inside guide on how to completely screw your finances - September 15, 2019