DOWN at the hairdressing salon a few years ago Sharon had a problem.
She needed a soft top car that would be the envy of all her mates but cheap enough to run on her wages from the Youth Training Scheme plus the bit on the side she made giving neighbours the type of cut that made Pink look like Barbara Cartland.
Revelling in the success of the tiny Ka, Ford’s design team set to work with some scissors and a tub of gel.
The resulting mess was the Streetka, which basically looked like a Ka a giant had sat on.
But its bulbous wings and fat back end matched its core market superbly and Ford reckoned it had another winner on its hands.
The two-seater suited Sharon perfectly. Ford even threw in leather seats and sporty seatbelts, while the soft top was great for flicking cigarettes and waving at the girls.
The only drawback was the boyfriend refused to go near it and would rather have watched the England v Algeria game 10 times over.
But it wasn’t long before the blokes were forced to get involved when things started to go horribly wrong.
Panic-stricken Shazza soon discovered a major flaw when she tried to open the doors after owning the car for a few weeks.
The skinny handles were like something out of an Airfix kit and broke faster than you could say “what are you doing for your holidays?”
In some cases owners couldn’t get out, and passers-by were faced with the less than flattering view of Sharon opening the roof and trying to swing her legs over the windscreen.
The situation was made worse by the simultaneous failure of the alarm to switch off, so everyone could witness her Streetka aerobics.
Meanwhile, the mechanics were having a field day as clutches failed before they should, alternators bit the dust and the heaters refused to switch off, causing Shazza’s make-up to run and her new hair do to flop.
Repair bills racked up into four figures and Ford’s 1.6 engine drank petrol faster than its owner on a night on the alcopops.
Suffice to say Sharon rapidly fell out of love with her Streetka and went back to her Corsa with the fat exhaust fitted by the boyfriend.
Now you can pick one up for less money than a cut and colour (not that you’d want to).
- Email Andrew Smith and tell him if you agree or nominate a car you think really IS the worst car in the world?
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