The old girl is down, and quite possibly out.
The "old girl" being my car. If you looked up money pit in the dictionary, you would find a picture of a 1990 silver Chrysler New Yorker, with me standing next to it dressed in a potato sack. So far I have replaced literally every part of her except for the motor and frame. I could list them all but frankly I am embarrassed that I even know the names of some of this stuff. Women rarely know these things unless they own a clunker and spend more time at the mechanics than the beauty parlor, and I might have my membership revoked if I divulged my extensive knowledge of the anatomy of an automobile.
In the continuing saga of the money pit.....our heroine takes a road trip.
I took my son to a doctors appointment on Friday, the doctor is in a town about 40 minutes from here. Afterwards, we decided to go an additional 20 minutes so he can visit his father, not an easy decision since his father lives in the middle of Butt Fuck Nowhere. As we were leaving, I had just pulled out on the road and the "old girl" said, "That's far enough!" The rear end fell off the springs and the car now sits directly on the tires.
His father manages to get the car back into his driveway, where it still sits. Here's my dilemma......how do I get the car back from Butt Fuck Nowhere? Do I pay to have it towed, at a cost of about $200, only to find out it was unfixable? Or do I just set a match to it? And do I do it before or after I slit my wrists?
Decisions, decisions.
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