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I truly, deeply, madly love my car. Well, not really, since one should not love material things; the word love should be reserved for actual people and real relationships and not trivialized by using it to describe the feelings one has for possessions.
I don't care if it's wrong, I love my car, I can't help it.
My little blue station wagon has always been a bit quirky -- when I got it two years ago the rear driver's side child safety lock was broken, so that if anyone sits there, they have to wait for someone to open the car door from the outside if they want to get out. I think it's kind of cool, not only because being let out in that fashion makes one feel like one is being chauffeured, but also because I, as the driver, am often the one who opens the door and I thusly get to stand there with the handle in my hand asking "Are you going to be good? Do you promise? Really really promise?" until they do indeed promise to be good and are let out, or figure out that they can scoot over and let themselves out the other side, whichever comes first.
While I'm on the topic of car quirks that annoy my passengers but cause me relatively little discomfort, and thusly have never been fixed, let me discuss the front passenger seat. Ages ago, at an undetermined time, my brother got in the car and fixed the front passenger's seat as he likes it (super-reclined with lots of legroom) and it has stayed that way ever since, so that anyone riding in that seat has quite the relaxing ride and anyone riding behind them who is more than four feet tall has to creatively contort him or herself to ride at all comfortably.
Anyway! I heart my car, especially when its quirks let me act like the oppressive overlord I am at heart. Sadly, the car's latest quirks do nothing to improve my status as repressed oppressive overlord, but instead make me look like the moderately financially challenged college student with whacked priorities I really am (NSYNC Concert? Superficial repairs to de-ghetto the car? Is there really a choice?).
A couple of months ago I went really crazy and, after getting an oil change, decided to really splurge and fork over seven dollars to the car wash. Sadly, the car has never been the same, as some pressurized whatever it is they use in those car washes ripped off some of the black plastic under my rear passenger side window. Which, you know, kind of sucked, but not at first because I didn't notice, even though the semi-ripped plastic made this loud THWAP-THWAP-THWAP every time I drove anywhere without the radio at its typical near-deafening volume. It went like this:
Half-Destroyed Plastic: THWAP-THWAP-THWAP
Jess: What's that?
Radio: [Opening strains of Girlfriend]
Jess: OhmyGod! (frantically stabbing at volume controls)
Half-Destroyed Plastic: [Completely drowned out]
I finally discovered it and, of course, did nothing about it. When I went home for a weekend my father saw it and used his considerable auto-repair skills to repair it by taping the black plastic back to the car with bright green electrical tape, which really added to the look of the car.
The same time the car wash assaulted the black plastic, the oil change peeps at Wal-Mart did something to my windshield wipers so that now, when I turn them off, instead of going back to their starting positions (as they should), they simply stop wherever they are. This is sometimes annoying, but most of the time a fun challenge -- I have become a fan of the new, self-created Windshield Wiper game, where one's mastery of the windshield wipers is measured by the combined score of (1) On a scale of one to ten the placement of the windshield wipers, one being lying flat against the bottom of the windshield, ten being standing up vertically, and (2) how many tries it takes.
I live a very exciting life.
Anyway, I usually don't mind my car and it's quirks. I actually, as admitted before, very much like (love) it and them. I usually forget about them and only take notice when I have passengers on a rainy day and have to be all oh, you probably want to sit on the driver's side in the backseat because the passenger seat up front is permanently reclined and so it's kind of cramped on that side in the back but also, if you do ride behind me, you have to let me let you out when we get to our designated location because the child safety lock is broken and you can't open the door from the inside and, also, don't mind the windshield wipers stopping at random spots on the windshield, it's just a bit of a quirk, and that rattling every time I shift gears? Really nothing serious, just cause to turn the radio up a bit. And ignore that green electrical tape slightly obscuring your view of passing traffic, it's just a decorating choice. Buckle up!
I don't care if it's wrong, I love my car, I can't help it.
My little blue station wagon has always been a bit quirky -- when I got it two years ago the rear driver's side child safety lock was broken, so that if anyone sits there, they have to wait for someone to open the car door from the outside if they want to get out. I think it's kind of cool, not only because being let out in that fashion makes one feel like one is being chauffeured, but also because I, as the driver, am often the one who opens the door and I thusly get to stand there with the handle in my hand asking "Are you going to be good? Do you promise? Really really promise?" until they do indeed promise to be good and are let out, or figure out that they can scoot over and let themselves out the other side, whichever comes first.
While I'm on the topic of car quirks that annoy my passengers but cause me relatively little discomfort, and thusly have never been fixed, let me discuss the front passenger seat. Ages ago, at an undetermined time, my brother got in the car and fixed the front passenger's seat as he likes it (super-reclined with lots of legroom) and it has stayed that way ever since, so that anyone riding in that seat has quite the relaxing ride and anyone riding behind them who is more than four feet tall has to creatively contort him or herself to ride at all comfortably.
Anyway! I heart my car, especially when its quirks let me act like the oppressive overlord I am at heart. Sadly, the car's latest quirks do nothing to improve my status as repressed oppressive overlord, but instead make me look like the moderately financially challenged college student with whacked priorities I really am (NSYNC Concert? Superficial repairs to de-ghetto the car? Is there really a choice?).
A couple of months ago I went really crazy and, after getting an oil change, decided to really splurge and fork over seven dollars to the car wash. Sadly, the car has never been the same, as some pressurized whatever it is they use in those car washes ripped off some of the black plastic under my rear passenger side window. Which, you know, kind of sucked, but not at first because I didn't notice, even though the semi-ripped plastic made this loud THWAP-THWAP-THWAP every time I drove anywhere without the radio at its typical near-deafening volume. It went like this:
Half-Destroyed Plastic: THWAP-THWAP-THWAP
Jess: What's that?
Radio: [Opening strains of Girlfriend]
Jess: OhmyGod! (frantically stabbing at volume controls)
Half-Destroyed Plastic: [Completely drowned out]
I finally discovered it and, of course, did nothing about it. When I went home for a weekend my father saw it and used his considerable auto-repair skills to repair it by taping the black plastic back to the car with bright green electrical tape, which really added to the look of the car.
The same time the car wash assaulted the black plastic, the oil change peeps at Wal-Mart did something to my windshield wipers so that now, when I turn them off, instead of going back to their starting positions (as they should), they simply stop wherever they are. This is sometimes annoying, but most of the time a fun challenge -- I have become a fan of the new, self-created Windshield Wiper game, where one's mastery of the windshield wipers is measured by the combined score of (1) On a scale of one to ten the placement of the windshield wipers, one being lying flat against the bottom of the windshield, ten being standing up vertically, and (2) how many tries it takes.
I live a very exciting life.
Anyway, I usually don't mind my car and it's quirks. I actually, as admitted before, very much like (love) it and them. I usually forget about them and only take notice when I have passengers on a rainy day and have to be all oh, you probably want to sit on the driver's side in the backseat because the passenger seat up front is permanently reclined and so it's kind of cramped on that side in the back but also, if you do ride behind me, you have to let me let you out when we get to our designated location because the child safety lock is broken and you can't open the door from the inside and, also, don't mind the windshield wipers stopping at random spots on the windshield, it's just a bit of a quirk, and that rattling every time I shift gears? Really nothing serious, just cause to turn the radio up a bit. And ignore that green electrical tape slightly obscuring your view of passing traffic, it's just a decorating choice. Buckle up!
