it’s gotten to that point

i just adored my car when i bought it, chiefly because it replaced a $300 mitsubishi microtruck with an oil leak, a bad clutch, a rickety front end, no upholstery whatsoever, and almost no light lenses to speak of. and dents. lots of dents. among other problems. rust. a chronically leaky but huge front tire that was worth more than the whole vehicle, so i just had to keep putting air in it. the truck sucked. and not well. the buick felt like a real car, it felt wonderful the first day i bought it and it rained, and i didn’t feel like i was going to go skittering off the road if i exceeded 50mph. oh try driving like that in southern california! they don’t slow down in the rain, and you’re clinging to the steering wheel in terror while people weave and zoom around your small rattletrap deathmobile, feeling for all the world like you were gonna die.

and now. and now. dang buick needs some sort of major tune-up, it stopped starting briefly the other night and intermittently now flashes the battery light, it groans deep in the front end when you back up, and needs about a dozen other little things it can’t have right now, because it came from ugly duckling with crippling payments. a normal person with normal credit would have a shiny newish lexus for these payments. me? a 7 year old buick.

and this is how my mind works: i hope something happens. something non-lethal, not my fault, and sufficient to cause someone else’s insurance to get me into another vehicle. i don’t have a normal mind that thinks, oh, i should budget and cut back and get the car all fixed up and struggle through the next year (which is how long i have till i can trade the shuddering piece of buick in). i just want to make it go away. and maybe a little pain and suffering settlement to … see? i have to stop thinking like this. it’s sick. i keep thinking the next time an asshole almost creams me, i won’t get out of the way, but i can’t seem to overcome my collision avoidance mechanism long enough to get a little whiplash and some pain meds and a check. ok, and i know that’s crazy. i do. it’s extremely crazy. it is.

i hate cars. i mean i love them, i adore a nice car and by nice i’m not even that picky, but then they turn on me like this. and this makes me crazy.

11 thoughts on “it’s gotten to that point

  1. i figured i’d get a chorus of “it’s crazy to wish for a car accidents” — ’cause it is, really.

    but maybe having this wish somehow perversely keeps me from actually having one? always want what you can’t have? i saw a pretty serious accident today, not major injuries but you know, totalled cars (nicer than mine, i’ll add) and i bet those people would switch places with me tonight. or not, how would i know how people in corvettes and whatever that other shiny crunched car was, feel?

  2. Besides money, one of the major reasons not to own a ‘Vette is the fiberglass body. I hope whoever was in it wasn’t seriously injured.

    Of course it’s crazy to wish for car accidents; wish for car theft instead!

  3. maybe i should try leaving it running with the keys in it more often, eh? but then it’s just me and my insurance, and that wouldn’t cover it. i need to get hit (gently, but thoroughly) by either (a) an insured idiot or (b) an uninsured one to trigger the extra three grand i get if an uninsured idiot hits me.

  4. I know exactly what you mean by hating cars. They are like the worst relationship you’ve ever had, and always ley tou down eventually. The one I have now is pretty nice, but I’m sure it will strand me somewhere pretty quick.

    Maybe try thinking outside the box. You could slip on some unmopped-up water at the mall, and you could get money out of that. People have milked McDonalds for having coffee that is too hot. Defective products hurt people all the time. Got any incriminating info on anybody?

    I’m terrible, but my mind works the same way as yours.

  5. “i hope something happens. something non-lethal, not my fault, and sufficient to cause someone else’s insurance to get me into another vehicle.”

    i am so staying away from the 101 this weekend…

  6. I’ve thought about all this stuff many a time myself. My dad was in the car repair business, and when I was younger and stupider lame-o me sometimes called him to run the schemes by him. You really wouldn’t have wanted to hear his responses.

  7. Oooh, I hate the fact that I have to own a car as well. I live in the northeast (an hour outside nyc), and I’m sure the bad drivers here could give the bad drivers there a run for their money. Every time someone is tailgating my little corrolla on the interstate going 65 MPH (sometimes I can’t even see their headlights), I come this close to hitting my brakes, just so they rear-end me. If asked, I’d say a raccoon or something ran into the road. Even if I didn’t get any money or a new car out of it, I’d like to teach them a lesson. Bastards.

  8. i actually did that once — and it didn’t work. i was driving my employer’s extra car, a large, old, huge station wagon, perfectly safe and fully insured. i was driving on a two lane highway at night, and this bastard was *right* on my ass. i’d speed up to nearly 80 and he’d still be right there. and there were places to pass! but he wouldn’t pass!

    so we came to my turn. the law in calif is turn signal 100ft before the intersection. so 100ft before the intersection i flicked on the blinkers, mashed the brake pedal down, and threw that big wagon into the turn. bastard behind me had a lighter, newer car with better brakes and managed not to hit me. bastard. oh, i wanted him to.

    i bet i gave him a good couple of seconds of sheer terror to think over the error of his assholic ways. either that or it happens to him all the time, and didn’t bother him a bit, who knows.

  9. I know where there is a Plymouth Prowler sitting in a garage and the owner doesn’t want it. LOL, Sept, my daddy dearest had a silver Prowler delivered for my 16th birthday. You say WOW…………but the problem is………….I’m 15 (driving age in Missouri is 16) and my birthday wasn’t September 1, it was July 1. The bastard didn’t remember when my b-day was. So it is still sitting in his garage…………………LOL. Seriously though I don’t think a Prowler would exactly last parked on the street in my new neighborhood LOL. Sayyyyyyyyyy insurance……….oh wait WHAT insurance. Hmmmmmmm maybe I should use it to learn to drive.

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