My boss has either
been struck down by a midlife crisis or the male menopause, we are not sure
which yet.
He has just sold his
Range Rover and bought himself a brand-new Porsche or as we lowly employees
prefer to call it his “Meno-Porsche”.
There can be few
things in this life more ridiculous than a balding man in his fifties with high
blood pressure and a dodgy hip, driving an expensive sports car, not to mention
getting in and out of it.
In my experience real
men don’t even like sports cars, after all they are so impractical, real men
like trucks, vans, jeeps and Landover’s.
Women on the other
hand love sports cars, which is no doubt the reason that older men like to drive
them in a vain attempt to attract women who otherwise wouldn’t look at them
twice.
When I look at him
admiring his new baby, I’m convinced he feels the Porsche has pulling power.
I feel confident he
will soon come to his senses and buy himself a pick up because he won’t pick up
anything in his Porsche other than a bad back and the only thing he is likely
to pull is a muscle trying to exit the car with his dignity intact.
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