What’s wrong with this picture? You guessed correctly. It’s a mangled car. That’s my car. It looks like that because it was in an accident – while carrying my two daughters. You might be wondering if they’re all right. I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I want to take you through the emotional roller coaster that is my life at this moment.
Bad
News: I received a phone call a couple Friday
mornings ago from my crying 21-year-old.
Through her tearful voice, all I could understand was, “car hit us,” and,
“hit my head.”
Good News: She was crying.
Which meant she was ALIVE. In my
heart of hearts, I knew my other daughter was ok, too.
Bad
News: My car got mangled. I have no idea how long it’s going to take to
get fixed or even if it can be fixed. We
have yet to hear anything. This means I
don’t have any other forms of transportation for myself. If I have to share our other car, and
with our busy lives, it’s going to be quite a juggling act.
Good News: A sweet relative loaned me the use of her car, which was new in 1996. I won’t tell you who she is,
because frankly, I don’t want to embarrass her. If I were her, I’d be embarrassed.
Bad
News: The next block can hear me coming when I
drive it. When I told her about it, she
said, “Yeah, the mechanic told me it has a hole in the muffler.” The
speedometer works when it feels like it.
In this City with all the red light cameras, you’d better have a
speedometer. In fact, your speedometer
should be set to “City” so that you can only drive 30 mph and 20 in a school
zone. In fact, I don’t think any of the gauges
on her panel work because the gas gauge doesn’t work either. It ping pongs between “E” and a half
tank. I left home one day and it was on half. Less than ten miles later, it was on “E.” I’m no physicist, rocket scientist or Nobel
Prize winner, but I don’t think even the biggest gas guzzler on the street will
use a half tank of gas in that short distance. So what was the smart thing to do? I put gas in it. Or at least attempted to.
I went to the pump after giving the clerk $20 to fill up
the tank. After pumping about $3 worth, it stopped. I tried it again. This time it gave $2 more. I figured there was something wrong with the
station’s pump. Either that – or the
tank was full. I couldn’t tell. I explained this situation to my relative to
which she replied, “Oh. You have to gently squeeze the pump, and you have to
tilt the nozzle down.” What? I needed special instructions on pumping gas
for this thing?
“Oh, ok. Thanks for telling me that,” I said sweetly. Then I remembered some time ago, she replaced
her gas tank because it eroded. Well,
I think the whole tilting scenario was because the mechanic must have
misaligned the tank’s opening. Oh well,
I’ll just have to adjust to making gas-pumping a well-thought out process from
now on.
Good News: My girls suffered only minor injuries. I’d rather have a mangled car than mangled
girls.
Bad
News: What bad news?
