A Vectra vxr with parking sensors in a pub car park. It's a bit tight on either side, and there isn't much space behind, but she gives it a go anyway.
Then forwards, and crunch, the lower splitter is now dangling by a couple of clips: all the lower grommets have decided that life in an oily puddle in two pieces is better than this.
So I get the phone call: "help". Car comes out in three moves.
I have to cancel my Monday customer, and instead spend it persuading Picador to reassemble the car at short notice. The whole thing is my fault, because I didn't swap the child seat back in to her car, so "forcing" her to drive it, get stuck, and smack it into the kerb.
Her car gets four new Contintental tyres, at considerable expense. We agree that I will drive her car to a family halloween party, and she will drive back.
I park the car at the back of a line of cars.
It's parked dead straight, both front and rear wheels about 4 inches off the left hand side kerb.
The steering wheel is dead ahead.
The road is straight.
There is nothing but double yellow lines behind, stretching hundreds of yards into the distance.
Party over, she gets in, having had pretty much zero to drink.
She selects reverse, whizzes off backwards, and cranks the wheel off to the left. I shout, but not quickly enough, and sure enough, crunch, scrape as lhs rear makes hard contact with the kerb.
One kerbed alloy, a small chunk missing from the sidewall of a 1 day old Conti, plus it's my fault for lecturing her.
There's another bottle of red wine downstairs.
It's mine. All mine, and sod what the recommended daily intake is