I can’t draw animals. And I can’t draw cars even….worser. I just can’t do it. I even got so frustrated with one sketch that I made The Dark Knight do it but he just about had a fit over the stylus and so he drew something on a piece of paper and I tried to copy it.
But what I’m about to tell you has been weighing heavily on my heart this month and I must get it off my chest: Every stinking car I’ve ever owned has been engineered specifically to humiliate me. Every. Single. One.
It started in 1993. I didn’t get a car until I was almost 19. It was a 1974 Bug.
I loved that car. For a little while. But then things began to sour in our relationship. First of all, the window-roller-uppers wouldn’t stay on. Anytime it started pouring outside and I was driving, I’d have to dig through the piles of trash on my floor looking for the darn thing.
Add that was in no way my fault….
Also, the horn would go off whenever I turned left and after a while it wouldn’t stop until I stopped driving. It was like Jim Carrey’s “Most annoying noise in the world” from Dumb and Dumber.
The starter didn’t work so I had to hot-wire it EVERY TIME I GOT IN THE CAR. And of course the gas gauge never worked so I was constantly running out of gas which was a total bummer because I delivered pizzas.
My second bug also had a gas gauge that didn’t work. It was a 1974 Bug as well and it belonged to The Dark Knight’s father. He gave it to me because nobody else would drive it.
I loved it because I like to be the clown o’ the intersection. Rainy days were bad. My boss and phone-a-friend once followed me to a house-call and the light turned yellow and so I tried to stop (so they wouldn’t get lost. I’m cool that way.) But my car decided not to stop and instead it just kinda slid out into the intersection, did a few loops and then came to rest against the curb.
The worst part was having to back up and drive away.
This bug had a horn that didn’t work so we mounted a “horn button” on the dashboard.
Funny how when a gigantic suburban backs into you not once, not twice but three times, you cant find the “horn button” to save your life.
But I did get a nice new paint-job out of it.
And there was the Gold Grand Am. The passenger door didn’t latch and would fly open when we turned. We drove all the way from California to southern Texas with the first 2 gears GONE. I dreaded the stoplight. And the noise we made starting in 3rd….
We moved downtown Chicago in 2000 and SOLD THE CARS (The grand am for $100)
I didn’t have to own a car for 3 whole years. That make me feel like a freaking feather.
But then we moved out towards the suburbs and had to get a car again. This time, we got a truck and for a short period of time (on days when there was no snow) I was humiliation free.
But then we moved to Africa and sold the awesome car and bought an African Mercedes… Need I say more…?
And, well, now we’re here. And this month we have a minivan and a altima. On the minivan, the driver’s side window doesn’t roll down. I forget that every time I go to sonic. And the Altima’s driver’s side door stopped opening from the inside. So when I turn the car off, I HAVE TO TURN IT BACK ON TO ROLL DOWN THE WINDOW SO I CAN LET MYSELF OUT. Every. Single. Time.
It kills me. It really does.