Blogs are for ranting eh?
Or at least bitching about life. Well here goes- today’s post is dedicated to my darling bitch of a car. Yeah that’s right. We broke up today. She’s let me down too many times, no matter how hard I tried to patch things up, she just keeps on fucking around.
This morning, I parked my car nearby the office, turned off my engine and started to get my things to get out of the car. All of a sudden I heard a loud popping sound. I turned around, expecting to see the cause of the noise. I didn’t see anything. I turned back to the front and saw smoke exhaling from my car’s bonnet. ‘Motherfuck!’
I got out of the car and saw water from my car flowing down the road. ‘Shit!’
At this point in time, I started to think to myself, what the fuck in the world did I do to deserve this? I had my car serviced recently (on Saturday) and everything seemed fine on the way to work. Anyway, to cut the story short, I called up the insurance road ranger, they sent a tow truck, towed my car to the workshop, and got it fixed- it was just a broken water hose. End of story.
Not.
Let’s fast forward to about 11.45pm (I managed to catch the clock at 11.34 tonight too)- I’m a few minutes away from home, going down a hill. I needed to decelerate because I was reaching a bump. I pumped the brakes. Nothing happened. My car continued going at the same speed (fortunately I am a slow driver- not that I suck in driving, I choose to drive slowly most of the time), and I went over the bump. I thought to myself ‘maybe it’s just my imagination, my car shouldn’t be failing, not now anyway’. And continued my journey. I reached another bump and tried hitting the brakes again. No response. ‘Fuck’.
Cut the short story short- I turned on my hazard lights and continued driving home with the aid of my emergency handbrake.
Fast forward about 20 minutes later. I’m back home, showered and sitting in front of the computer typing this. I know I should be fortunate, every time my car broke down, it wasn’t in the middle of nowhere. Middle of a busy traffic light? Check. At a petrol station? Check. In my carpark? Check. Nearby my office? Check. And I’m thankful for that. But then again, when you think about it- cars shouldn’t be breaking down so often right? I don’t know about you, but it never feels good to call home about the bad news. I guess that’s the problem with driving an ancient car. An ancient car that wasn’t well maintained when in its prime.
My boss told me today ‘how many more excuses can you give about your car?’
Not a good sign.
Even Raelene thought it was sign we shouldn’t see each other anymore, cos my car kept breaking down on the day I was supposed to go out with her.
Well, today is the day I officially give up on my car.
You’ve served me well, my dear machine. But there’s a line that’s been drawn and you’ve overstepped your boundaries. I’ll get your brakes fixed up and sell you to someone else. And if nobody wants you, I don’t want you anymore either. It’s time to move on.