A New Car.

A new car, that's what she wants.
"What?" said I.
"I want a new car," says she. "One of them nice little C1's. A pale blue one, I don't want a big one like yours."
"You can't drive," said I. "What do you want a car for?"
"It's only twenty five quid a week," says she. "And you can put it on your insurance."
"You can't fucking drive!" I point out politely.
"Yes I can," says her. "Well, I used to have a provisional but I don't know where it is. I could get another one, a replacement. I want a car."
"You can't get finance without a licence."
"Ah," says she. "You've got a licence."
"Not for long," says I. "If you are going to start defrauding garages."
"I'm not," says she. "I just want a car. You can give me lessons."
She doesn't listen unless it is her doing the talking.
"Get your licence first!"
"I want a car," says she. "Let's go and have a look at one today."
Well, she can sod off. She might want a new car but she's not getting one, not until she gets a licence.