You’re all familiar with our Sam, aren’t you? You know, SAM! Sorry, I’m doing that thing that people do – repeating a name or phrase as if doing that will mean you’ll know what I’m talking about.

For the blissfully ignorant amongst you, Sam is my car. Sam is the successor of Colin and before him, Gary ruled the highways.I took Sam for an outing last week (I say outing, he got to spend some time in a car park at a karting centre). I felt slightly guilty knowing I was about to commit some sort of infidelity, speeding around on a nifty little number while poor Sam only ever hit mind-blowing speeds of 30 or 40mph around the town. He was my little cuckold, the poor, reliable car who sat patiently waiting for his lady friend while she enjoyed a petrol-fuelled one-lap stand.

I was excited about the karting not so much due to the fact I’d be skidding round corners on two wheels but because I’d hatched a revenge plot. Years ago my brother repeatedly drove a go-kart into the back of mine causing some serious bruising. I intended to repay the favour. A woman NEVER forgets.….. I’m still hatching a plan for that toddler that put chewing gum in my hair in nursery but I digress…..

It was AWESOME! I waited until the employees were chatting and sped past my bro, knocking his car into the tyre barriers, laughing maniacally as he became stuck. He even had to jump over said tyres when his engine cut out and my kart was pinning his against a wall. Lovely, sibling fun.

Once it was all over and what felt like a bout of vertigo had subsided I headed back to Sam, victorious. I sarcastically patted his steering wheel, acknowledging that we both knew I’d been playing away but that we weren’t going to talk about it.

I put him in reverse and revved the engine: “Woah there, Jackie Stewart!” I laughed as I instinctively rammed the accelerator to the floor.

It was funny at first, but then I realised that even though I spent just an hour in a go-kart, my brain couldn’t make the transition from Vin Diesel back to Noddy. I glanced over and saw the fam pulling nervous smiles, probably because I was parked near the new Audi.

Panicking myself, I furiously grappled with the clutch, trying to reverse as Sam screeched in pain. I started making progress via a few kangaroo hops in reverse. Under much duress, I managed to pull clear of the Audi.

As everyone cheered I wound the window down to shout abuse, launching into a rant about how they never support me and I’m constantly victimised because I drive a one-litre. They continued to mock me. Give me strength.

In a moment of sheer anger I jumped from the car and patheticallystarted kicking my brother’s tyres as everyone shook their heads. Feeling accomplished, I got back into the car and went back again... into a bin.

Have I learned never to take revenge? Nope. Will I cheat on Sam again? Maybe. So long as there are no bins nearby to reverse into.