From behind the traditional sawn-off swing-doors, yellow light streamed out on to the street and on to the sleek black and silver of a 1920 Stutz Bearcat roadster at the kerb.
I parked on kerbs, leaving the hazard lights flashing, as I nipped into pubs, fast-food joints, nightclubs where the cleaners, working in the stale, dim air, peered up at me with suspicious eyes.
So, erm, I pulled into the kerb about 30 yards or so, er, in front of the Lotus (Yes), and erm, my passenger and myself got out and we, we walked back towards his car.
It went over the kerb on the other side of the road, hit a tree broadside, bounced off it and smashed into a lamp standard and turned completely round and slowly toppled over on its side.
He propelled himself along the street with a block of wood in each hand. I met him just after he had crossed the street and was starting to lift himself up a few inches over the kerb to the sidewalk.