One of our drivers travelled up from deepest, darkest Kent, to collect his new Toyota Corolla Hybrid from the office. I do like them to collect them from Head Office (well in fact, the only office) as I can meet them, and they can bring their old cars back. Maybe a waste of a day, and fuel, but seems to suit everyone. He duly turned up on the right day, at the right time. He did keep calling me en-route to say he might be 11 minutes late, according to his sat-nav. He was so excited, I had a look around the pick-up he was bringing back, and for a working vehicle, it was immaculate – with hardly a mark on it. I had pulled out all the stops to get him ‘the car of his dreams’ or at least, one within his monthly budget for his position within the company.
He was absolutely delighted with the new car and couldn’t thank me enough. He excitedly jumped in the car and promptly set off with not even a wave, or a beep of the horn. However, 30 minutes later, he called to say he had a problem with the car. I asked him what the problem was, he responded by saying “it doesn’t speak my language.” “What,” I said – it doesn’t speak Kent? “No,” he said – “it’s not in English, it’s a foreign language, I’m not sure what it is.”
I said, “it’s easy to sort, you just need to go into ‘settings,’ and change it to English.” “Right, he said, I’ll call you back.” He did, five minutes later, and said “I can’t change it, because the settings are in a foreign language – so not sure what I’m looking for?” I said, “look for something that resembles ‘language,’ there must be something in there that does.” He looked but couldn’t find anything. His problem was, he needed to connect his phone, and due to his speedy exit from our car park, he didn’t sync his mobile phone to the car. Anyway, we all scratched our heads trying to find a solution to this foreign language problem, but without knowing exactly what the language was, we were a bit in the dark, even after calling the supplying dealer to ask for advice. He did make it back to Kent, and after a few days, and a few calls, we managed to get the car speaking English.
I seem to have landed the plumb job of organising workplace chargers, although we have hardly any electric vehicles on our fleet, as our drivers run a mile if I mention them. But our boss must be seen to be going green, and what better way than to have two chargers on a wall in the car park – even if their use is minimal.
The chargers were fitted over a weekend, as the fitting company said they might have to turn off the electricity supply, so best to be safe and do it while nobody was working. First thing Monday morning I went to look at the two shiny black boxes, and immediately for some unknown reason started humming the opening theme to ‘2001 A Space Odyssey.’ Also, Sprach Zarathustra by the Vienna Philharmonic, conducted by Herbert Von Karajan. I didn’t know who it was by, or the conductor, but Google is a wonderful thing. Our car park had turned into something from outer space, with other members of staff going over to look and touch them in awe. Like the film when someone says, “open the pod doors,” a chilling moment in the film, which is so reminiscent of our EV chargers pod doors. I’m afraid now that every time I see them, or even think about them, I start singing, whistling, or humming that blooming theme tune. Everyone around me thinks I’ve gone mad, or ever madder than before.
With different languages in cars, Pods on the wall, I feel I need a Space Helmet… Beam me up Scotty…
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