Too much money

Yesterday was such a glorious Autumnal day with lots of warm sunshine so we decided to take the 15 minute stroll to our local pub for lunch. Its a busy place down to its countryside location and Michelin starred chef, the views are stunning and there is always something going on. We tend to pop in now and again and know a few of the regulars so its always nice to go in and have a catch up with whats going on in the village.

The car park was dominated by an Orange Lamborghini.

I wonder whose that it, mused Rocksey – lets play a game and see if we can spot whose it could be.

Rocksey and I love to people watch. Sit us down in a beachside bar or pavement cafe and we could spend all day playing our favourite game, making up names and lifestyles for those who interest us most. 

Now first impressions can be wrong of course. A guy I know very well who looks like he hasn’t got a pot to p*ss in has a collection of Rolex watches as his pension pot  – all squirrelled away in a bank vault not even out of the boxes – he also has a couple of race horses but likes nothing better than collecting his kids from their very exclusive school in his old ‘pikey wagon’  – to his amusement. His wife, on the other hand, would not be seen dead without her latest designer handbag or sunglasses ( never mind what the weather is)!! and we all know someone who has no money but spends on credit as if money was going out of fashion, jetting off to sunnier climes at the drop of a hat but then dares not open the door to strangers in case it is the baliff. 

Rocksey returns from the bar with our drinks and we settle down in the garden and subtly check out who could be the owner of the Orange Lamborghini. I am drawn to the middle aged man with the paunch and open neck shirt with his not much younger wife ( who is trying to look at least 20 years off her husband – the reality being there my only be 5 years between them).  Looks like a bit of a mid-life crisis car- I whisper to Rocksey. Nooo he whispers back, you can see how low it is, he’d put his back out trying to get into that thing!

A young couple sit to the left of us, all designer clothes, gold jewellery dripping from their wrists and necks with matching Rolex watches.  Even his pants are designer – I nod to the lads choice of underpants on show over his low slung jeans. Rocksey is hypnotised by the girls choice of clothes – its a hot day but she appears to be wearing a leather spray on cat suit –  all a bit TombRaider – Its theirs – nods Rocksey  – I can smell the money dripping off them.

There are a couple of Bankers wives in the restaurant but they look like they have quaffed too much wine to dare drive out of the car park even in an old Fiesta and a taxi does pull up sometime later and they pile in all giggles from their lunchtime lobster salad and Processo lunch. 

The rest of the gaggle of locals look like they either drive tractors or mobility scooters so Rocksey and I wait to see whether its the mid life crisis or the fashion victims that are getting ready to climb into that mean machine and drive off into the sunset. 

You know some people have too much money  – Rocksey sighs draining his glass. I raise my eyebrows at him. Some people use thier money wisely – I say. Buying cars like that is not using money wisely. He says – which I actually am in agreement with. Give me a new John Deere any day – a tractor won’t get stuck on top of a speed bump ( like I bet the Orange Lamborghini would). 

Suddenely we are both roused from our deliberations by some hearty salutations from the restaurant. Marsh and Melody appear alongside the Michelin starred chef clapping Marsh on the back. Good to see you again old chap- the chef booms at Marsh and takes Melodys face in his big Cheffy hands gives her a hearty West Country kiss on the lips. See you again soon! He disapears back to the kitchen. Hey guys, Marsh drops down in the seat next to Rocksey. We can’t stop, we are on the way to the airport as we have a flight to Portugal this evening – thought we would drop in for some good old British pub grub before we go , didn’t we Mel? Melody looks a little flustered, I think still trying to get her head round the good old British hospitality she had just been party too.

As the airport is only about 15 minutes from our house – and the food in the pub far superior to any aiport offering – I can see exactly why they decide to stop off.

Distracted from our watch on the car, I notice that mid life crisis has gone  – along with a top of the range Range Rover but the Orange Lamborghini is still there as are the the fashion victims who look like they are almost ready to go.

We all leave at the same  time. Rocksey nods his head over to the Lambo – too much money – he sighs . Definatley – says Marsh as  both he and the Fashion Victims aim their key fobs at their respective vehicles. The central locking beeps and the Lamborghinis aircraft like doors open.  

Told you  – says Rocksey smugly.

See you in 2 weeks – Melody says.

They toot the horn as they pass – in the Orange Lamborghini. A few seconds later a Fiat 500 passes us on the road with the Fashion Victims inside.

Too much money – we both look at each other. Now lets go home says Rocksey giving me a big hug – and see if we can get us a new tractor.

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