I’d never bought a new car before. Nonetheless I was feeling flush, and I had always wanted a Mini Cooper. The elegant design, the compact, playful personality, all those associations with the Swinging Sixties, the Beatles, the Italian Job.

I’d spotted a classic example in the window of Stratstone Rover in Soho. It was in British racing green, and had a white roof and white stripes on the bonnet. I was smitten.

As I entered the dealership, I was approached by a charming young man in a suit.

‘Are you looking at anything in particular, sir?’

‘Well, yes actually. I’d like to purchase that Mini Copper in the window please.’

‘Beautiful, isn’t it, sir? And it just so happens that that car is available.’

He quoted me a figure. I hesitated. I’m not a car person, but I vaguely remembered conversations in the pub about always negotiating a better price.

‘Can you do me a deal on that?’ I asked nervously.

The salesman looked a little challenged. He perhaps realised he had a serious haggler on his hands.

‘Hold on one moment, sir. I’ll have to talk to my manager.’

He disappeared for a short while, and I began to wonder if I was being troublesome.

The salesman returned.

‘I’ve spoken to my manager, sir, and there is something we can do. We’ll throw in a walnut-look dashboard and a Union Jack gear knob – completely free of charge.’

‘Oh, excellent. Thank you very much. Great. I’m in.’

And so we continued to the salesman’s office, and I paid full list-price for the Mini-Cooper – with a walnut-look dashboard and a Union Jack gear knob completely free of charge.

In my time at the Agency, I’d like to think that I was of some value - in making observations about changing consumer culture, in developing long term plans for Client brands, in writing briefs that pointed creatives in the right direction. But I would not claim to have been the toughest negotiator.

Sales is a skill I have always respected, not least because it’s one in which I was so lacking. Strategists don’t necessarily cut the best deals.

Neat, nippy, and nimble, over the years my Mini Cooper gave me a great amount of pleasure. Sometimes uncomfortable, occasionally temperamental, but always enjoyable, it was like driving a go-kart round London. Other Cooper drivers winked their headlamps at us when we passed. And on long journeys, we would wind the windows down and sing along to ‘Birdland’ by Weather Report.

What price happiness?

'This is the self-preservation society,
This is the self-preservation society.
Go wash your German bands, your boat race too.
Comb your barnet fair, we've got alot to do.
Put on your dickie dirt and your Peckham Rye.
'Cause time's soon hurrying by.
Get your skates on mate.
Get your skates on mate.
No bib around your Gregory Peck today, eh?
Drop your plates of meat right up on the seat.
This is the self-preservation society,
This is the self-preservation society.’

'Get a Bloomin' Move On!’ (Q Jones / D Black)

No. 542