The Porsche, The Beetle And How I Got Here

Chapter 13

Months went by, we finished filming the challenges, and started filming the live-part of the show, surprisingly enough, I didn’t receive any death threats after joining the cast, the worst thing we received about me, was people telling the BBC that it was “too cheap” to use a “pretty young woman with nice tits” to gain new viewers, a comment that amused all of us, so much even, that the guys chose to address the “problem” or comments on one of the shows, making the audience go crazy with applause, and I’d probably lie if I said that I didn’t laugh along, and gave a beer at Tim’s pub later.

For the first three or four shows, I was very aware of what I was wearing, I even asked the guys at some point if there was a dress code, you know something I wasn’t allowed to wear or something like that, to which I was told to take it easy, and do whatever I pleased, followed by a joke from Jeremy, about how I should just walk around naked, so we could please our new viewers, and before you ask, yes, that happened after the first comments about me only being on the show, to be “eye candy” started appearing in our mailbox.

However, when we hit the fifth show, I woke up that morning, and just wore whatever clothes I wanted to, making everything feel a lot easier and nice than before. I know it’s weird, but sometimes just being able to say “I don’t care, because I’m comfortable with this” helps a lot on the nerves and pressure.

“So this is it. The last show of this series.” I said as we sat down in the couches an hour before the shooting would start.

“How’d you like it?” James asked me.

“It has been a blast! I hope I’ll be allowed to come back for the next series.”

“Of course you are.” Jeremy laughed as he went through the script/schedule.

 “Good, ‘because I have an idea for the next series.”

“What? Share it with us.” Richard told me, pressing the tip of his shoe against my leg, as he was sitting across with me, and was unable to bump his shoulder into mine.

“Do you remember that awful Danish car you tried out in series 21?”

“How could anyone forget the Zenvo?” Jeremy asked, “It’s one of the most dreadful cars I’ve ever driven!”

“But what do you want to do with that dreadful car, Smith?” James asked.

“You see, May, I was thinking that we could collect the five or ten worst cars you’ve ever tried out on the show, to figure out which one is the worst one.”

Jeremy stopped reading and looked up at me, and I couldn’t help but smile. I’d known these blokes for months now, and I still wasn’t used to Jeremy’s glasses.

“And how do you want to test that?” he asked, and put the paper down onto the table.

“I don’t know. Challenges? Drag races? Whatever fun things we can come up with.”

“We could make it into an episode.” Richard said with a wide smile, “The Top Gear Worst Cars On The Planet -Special. How does that sound to you?”

“Great idea, but what other cars are we going to include?” James asked and we sat in silence for a while.

“The pink Nissan convertible you forced me to drive.” Richard said after some seconds of silence.

“But there was nothing wrong with the Micra apart from its colour!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, it drove awfully when its roof was down, probably one of the worst convertibles I’ve ever driven.” He replied.