The Salty Morning From Hell: Electric Cars, Toxic Toilets & The Search for the Perfect Diesel

The Salty Morning From Hell: Electric Cars, Toxic Toilets & The Search for the Perfect Diesel

There are mornings when you wake up thinking:

“Today is going to be a nice, peaceful day.”

And then there are Salty mornings.

Today started innocently enough. I was heading out to meet a friend for a coffee. Nothing complicated. No drama. Just a quiet morning, a bit of conversation and the promise of caffeine.

Then I encountered The Electric Car.

Now, before the electric-car enthusiasts start chasing me down the road, I have absolutely nothing against electric vehicles. Electric cars are modern, increasingly popular and, for many drivers, a perfectly sensible choice.

But the particular electric car I found myself behind appeared to have been powered by a sleepy hamster.

It was going so slowly that I began wondering whether I was actually driving or participating in some sort of experimental traffic-calming exercise.

The speed limit was there.

The road was there.

The accelerator was presumably there.

But apparently nobody had told the driver.

Eventually, I arrived at the coffee shop and thought my morning was about to improve.

Coffee.

Friend.

Conversation.

Simple.

Then I made the terrible mistake of visiting the toilets.

The Coffee Shop Toilet From Hell

OH. MY. GOD.

Someone had absolutely destroyed the toilet.

I'm talking about the sort of smell that makes you immediately question every decision you've ever made.

I opened the door, took one breath and thought:

“Nope.”

There are smells you can tolerate.

There are smells you can investigate.

And then there are smells that make you wonder whether the entire building should be evacuated.

This was definitely the third category.

I retreated faster than that electric car had been travelling.

The coffee suddenly seemed considerably less important.

Still, the morning had another surprise waiting for me.

Time for a Car Test Drive

On the way home, I stopped to test drive a few cars.

And, to be fair, they were good.

Actually, they were very good.

The cars were comfortable, modern and enjoyable to drive. I could certainly understand why people are attracted to newer cars and all the technology that comes with them.

But there was one problem.

I'm still Salty.

And Salty knows what Salty likes.

Give Me a Manual Handbrake

Call me old-fashioned, but I still like a manual handbrake.

You know the thing.

The lever.

You pull it up.

It goes click, click, click.

You know exactly what it's doing.

No electronic button.

No mysterious dashboard warning.

No need to consult the owner's manual because you've accidentally activated something called “Auto Hold Pro Max.”

Just give me the handbrake.

And while we're at it...

I'd still prefer a diesel.

Yes, I know.

Diesel isn't supposed to be fashionable anymore.

I know we're living in the age of electric cars, hybrids, charging points and increasingly complicated car technology.

But there's something about a good diesel car that still appeals to me.

Perhaps I'm just not ready to completely surrender to the future.

The Final Salty Verdict

So, after a morning involving:

☕ Coffee with a friend

🚗 Following an extremely slow electric car

💩 Encountering the coffee-shop toilet from hell

🚘 Test driving some cars

🅿️ Thinking about the perfect replacement car

🔧 And dreaming about a good old-fashioned manual handbrake...

I arrived home with one important conclusion:

The modern world is moving forward.

I'm just not entirely sure I want to go with it.

Especially if it's travelling at 20 kilometres an hour behind an electric car.

And especially if there's a public toilet involved.

😂🐶🚗💨

Another completely normal morning in the life of Salty.

And the search for the perfect car continues.

Maybe I'll eventually find the ideal vehicle.

Maybe I'll find a toilet that doesn't require a hazmat team.

Or maybe I'll just stay at home with the coffee.

Probably safer.