This is the story of Mario the Mini, a black Mini One, and how it came into the life of a beautiful girl, and how it came to be that the beautiful girl never got to drive him.
There once was a beautiful girl who loved cars and driving and being independent. She loved Top Gear (back in the day, when it was good) and she dreamed of having her own car one day.
When the beautiful girl was 16, her doting Father would take her out on Sunday mornings to learn basic maneuvering skills on disused land (Meadowhall shopping centre overspill car park) near where the beautiful girl lived. In fact, the beautiful girl loved cars and driving so much, that she had her very first driving lesson on the day of her 17th birthday and passed her driving test first time, just 2 months later.
A year or so went by and the beautiful girl, who had been driving around in her first car, a white Citroen C1 she called Sid the Citroen, in which she had only had a handful of collisions (that is, ones that she told her Father and Mother about) decided to go on an adventure.
The beautiful girl (who, although only just 19, was strong and independent and confident) decided to go travelling with her beautiful sister (who was loving and supportive and creative and passionate about the world and funny and sad at the same time). The beautiful girls both worked hard (at Starbucks and Bill’s restaurant) and stayed at home with their Father and Mother and saved up all their money to go travelling to faraway lands. They wanted to see the world and to see life and to learn about themselves and to have fun and adventures. They would see family and friends on their travels and meet up with their beautiful older sister and have fun and adventures with her too.
And so, the beautiful girl and her beautiful sister set off on a drizzly day in January from Manchester International Airport to travel to faraway Bangkok, to begin their travels and their adventures, just like lots and lots of young people do these days.
Whilst the beautiful girl and her beautiful sister were away from home, their Mother had a wonderful idea. They would trade in Sid the Citroen for a better car and surprise the beautiful girl when she came home from her travels and adventures. The beautiful girl’s Mother asked the beautiful girl’s Father to promise not to tell the beautiful girl until she was home, because her Mother wanted it to be a wonderful surprise.
Then, one morning in February, the beautiful girl was talking to her Father on Skype, telling her Father about their travels and what they’d been doing and where they were going next and about the future and about coming home and about plans of things she wanted to do. She asked her Father about her car and whether he thought she could get a better one, like a Fiat 500 or a Mini or something and, well, the Father couldn’t stop himself from telling his beautiful daughter about the Mini he and her Mother were about to buy her.
The beautiful girl started to cry and laugh and cry because she was so excited and so happy and she kept thanking her doting Father over and over again. The beautiful girl asked to speak to her Mother, who was still asleep. So her Father carried up his iPad to their bedroom and had to confess to the beautiful girl’s Mother that he had told their beautiful daughter about the car and that it was a black Mini One. The beautiful girl cried some more and thanked her Mother over and over again.
In fact, the beautiful girl was so happy about her new car that she decided to name him Mario the Mini. This was despite the text conversation that the beautiful girl had with her Father about age old naming conventions for cars and that cars are always female, not male. The beautiful girl even used a rude world when she texted her Father. But her Father didn’t mind, because he loved her very much and liked to wind up his beautiful daughter, even using rude words himself sometimes.
And, as if by magic, just as the beautiful girl named the black Mini One Mario, Mario’s chrome grill broke into a smile. Now that he had a name, he had come alive! He was ready and revved up and shiny, despite the February frost. Mario was so looking forward to being driven by the beautiful girl when she came back from her travels in faraway lands.
A few days went by and the Father and Mother went to the car showroom to pick up the black Mini One. The beautiful girl was now in a faraway landed called Vietnam and was trying to stay awake because it was late in the evening in the Vietnam land. Her Father sent her texts with pictures of Mario, who the nice people at the car showroom had decorated with ribbons, and the beautiful girl was excited and happy, despite being very sleepy.
But then suddenly, something very, very bad and very, very sad happened.
The beautiful girl and her beautiful sister and a handsome young man were all killed in an unexplained accident in the faraway land called Vietnam at a waterfall park in a place called Da Lat where lots of other young people were travelling and walking and sliding in the water.
And Mario’s bright, chrome grill faded and his smile drooped and went away, because he was very sad. He was so looking forward to being driven by the beautiful girl. Now he knew he would never meet her and have fun with her and go over the speed limit with her and be ram-packed with the beautiful girl’s friends and filled with her songs and her laughter and her KFC and Maccy-D boxes.
And so, the beautiful girl’s Father drove Mario the Mini instead, knowing Mario was sad and because he was sad too.
He drove Mario, sometimes too fast, and, most of the time, played ‘Random Access Memories’ by Daft Punk very loud, crying and shouting at how sad he was and how much he loved his beautiful daughters.
He spent time sat in Mario talking to Cagney, the Police Lady who was trying to find out how the beautiful girl, her beautiful sister and the handsome young man had come to die so suddenly and so quickly in the faraway land called Vietnam.
And the Father kept Mario clean, inside and out, because he’d promised his beautiful daughter that he would, until she came home. Although he knew now that she never ever would come home.
And the Father and Mother and their oldest beautiful daughter drove Mario to the church behind the two funeral carriages that took their beautiful daughter’s coffins to the church so that all their family and friends could say goodbye and cry and wish it wasn’t so.
And that is the story of Mario the Mini and how he came to be called Mario and how he came to never meet his owner, the beautiful girl, who loved him and life so much.
So, if you see Mario, the black Mini One driving around, give him a wave and wish him well, because he’s still sad and still misses his owner, the beautiful girl, who he never got to meet.