Nebulous Mooch

We bought a car in to keep in Florida not too long ago. It was for convenience because we go back and forth between the UK and Florida so often. It was also for prestige because we’re all about looking good. That’s why we have 97 Saturn as our Florida car and a 96 Peurgot 106 that sounds like a tractor as our UK car. Nothing says luxury like a car from the late nineties.

Anyway, when we got the car we told my parents that they could use it. They only have one vehicle and our car would just be sitting in their parking lot most of the time. My mother was insistent that they wouldn’t need to use it. “I don’t want that responsibility,” she said. “I can take the bus.”

My father has been driving it occasionally and my sister needed to use it for a while. That’s fine with us, but the other day we got a phone call telling us that the car broke down. When I say broke down I mean serious everything-stopped-working-stopping-in-the-middle-of-the-street broke down. That’s the kind of broke down that I have anxiety about whenever I drive anywhere. That’s the kind of broke down that ends up costing you more to repair than the car is actually worth. Anyway, guess who was driving it. Have you guessed yet? It was my mother.

My mother will probably read this post and never drive the car again. That’s too bad because even though she drives everywhere at 95 miles an hour the needs to be driven.

The other day someone knocked on our door to find out if we wanted to sell our car, Frank, for scrap metal. Frank doesn’t look that good, but we didn’t realize that he looked that bad. He’s loud and rough, but he’s reliable and that’s all we need.

Our car, Frank (that’s his name), broke down this weekend. It would’ve been all right if we were the kind of people who didn’t need to go anywhere on the weekend, but unfortunately most of our going happens on the weekends.

My husband thought it was the alternator. I didn’t even know Frank had one of those. Anyway after some thought and a lot of oh-no-what-are-we-going-to-do’s on my part we decided to rent a car. We got a Renault Clio from the car rental place. It looked something like this:

Yes the windows really are that shiny in person. I have pictures to prove it.

Having Clio around was a luxury. We started getting used to the power steering and working radio. Clio even had a CD player. Imagine that! But, Frank was starting to get jealous so Clio had to leave after only a few days.

We took Frank to the mechanic today. Don’t worry he’s made a full recovery.

Have you ever watched The Price is Right? When we used to do our laundry in the local laundromat The Price is Right was always blaring from the two televisions at either end of the establishment. For those of you who are lucky enough to never have heard of The Price of Right I’ll just say that it’s a game show that’s been on for a very long time. What shocked me is that the other customers in the laundromat seemed completely engrossed in the show. Anyway, one thing about the show that always got on my nerves was when a car was the prize the announcer would always say, “A neeeeeeewwwwww caaaaaarrrrrr!” I hated that. I know winning a new car is exciting, but must he say it in such an annoying manner.

We didn’t win a new car, but decided to buy an old car to make our trips to Florida a bit easier. There’s nothing I hate more than shopping for a car. Actually that’s not true. I think I hate getting a cavity filled more. Oh yeah, and there was that totally unnecessary uterus vacuuming. That was pretty bad too. So when I put it into prespective I guess car shopping isn’t that bad.

My husband is so excited about our new car that he couldn’t wait to have me take a picture of him climbing into it.

My husband took the car to a place called Kwik-Fit the other day to get the oil changed. The mechanic who has been working on the car is far away so he’s decided to try out some places nearby. We were spoiled in Florida because we had the best mechanic ever.

With a name like Kwik-Fit, we expected it to be something like Jiffy Lube. It’s a chain. It has the word quick–though strangely spelled–in the title. You would expect their service to be quick.

When my husband came home only a few minute after leaving, I knew that either Kwik-Fit really lived up to their name or there was a problem.

“I have to make an appointment,” he said.

“You’re kidding.”

“Guess when the first available appointment was.”

“When?”

“Next week.”

I was shocked and appalled but the shock and appallation (Is that a word?) grew even deeper when my husband told me that he’d have to leave the car there all day.

He asked the guy behind the counter, “If I drop it off at 9 in the morning, it should be done by 2:30, right?”

“Maybe,” the guy said.

Maybe? How long does it take to do an oil change. My husband said that when he was there, there was only one car in the whole place. Kwik-Fit should definitely change it’s name.

Some people name their cars. I have to admit that I’m one of those people. I remember all of my past cars’ names and personalities like they were old friends. Herbert was my whimsical Chevette. Elliot was my shy Plymouth Horizon. Claus was a sluggish Volvo 760. And Frankie is an optimistic PT Cruiser.

I’m remembering my past cars because I’m selling Frankie this week. I spent the morning cleaning him out. I gently wiped the dirt off the doorhandles and cleaned crumbs from door pockets. Misty eyed I looked over oil change receipts from Sears.

Frankie and I had some good times together. We like to go to the same places and listen to the same music. He’s quiet, but aren’t cars supposed to be quiet?

I’ll miss walking outside and seeing him, gleaming in the parking lot, waiting for me. He has become such a good friend. It’s hard to see good friends go.