We appear to have bought a car.

Here’s the fundamental difference between men and women, as evidenced by two recent conversations:

P’s friend, S: I just bought a new car.
P: Oh really? What is it?
P’s friend, S: It’s a [insert plentiful technical data here, including number of wheels, torque, acronyms, etc]

M’s friend, L: We’re getting a new car. Do you fancy buying our old one? I know you’re looking…
M: Oh, maybe, what kind is it?
M’s friend, L: It’s red. It’s a golf. And it’s got a CD player and a sunroof.

I’m not suggesting, of course, that women don’t care about suspension and torque and all that gubbins, nor that men don’t care about colours and accessories. To imply such a thing would be vast generalisation and patronising over-simplification.

However.

P’s friend, S, detailed all sorts of things about his new automobile without revealing two fairly important bits of data - the make and the colour. My friend L, on the other hand, pretty much glossed over all the other details.

Anyway, we bought a car, which means we now don’t need to hire one for our little trip up the aisle A1 in a little over three weeks time.

Three weeks.

Plus, of course, now I can learn to drive. At last.