ALISTAIR HEATHER: How a car prang in Montrose taught me a lesson about Brexit
My car’s been in the wars. And I’ve learned something really unpleasant about where I live. Maybe you’ve noticed it already, but I hadnae.
I’d had a meeting in Costa Montrose then done some work on the laptop.
My wee red VW Polo was safely stationed outside.
Meeting concluded and the pleasant background natter of a smalltown Costa winding down towards the close of day, I packed up my gear and headed outside.
I was in the car, engine started when Pavol (not his real name) came belting across the car park to wave frantically at my windscreen.
I got a bit of a fleg.
He was muscular, overweight, and covered in splatters of paint. His eyes were wide in the heat of some intense emotion.
I got out.
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