2007/07/31 09:41 Okay, the setup takes a while but the punchline is HIL-ARIOUS.
My car, my beautiful new (to me) car is a Change of Lifestyle, boy-o's. Before we start our story of my obtaining my car today, I want to go over a few things.
My beautiful new (to me) car is a 1992 Buick LeSabre Custom. This car has 100,009 miles on it and an engine built like a tank. This car will run even when it's fifteen years older than Moses. It's ivory colored on the outside with a navy interior. It's never been in an accident, not even a fender bender, never been run out of gas or oil, and it has received new tires in the last year, which were rotated on time less than six months ago.
This car, as already covered, it's not just a car to me. I love this car. It runs smooth, it looks nice and it is by all means, a Lifestyle Change. This car will change my career options, my living options, will in fact make my relationship with my significant other better. This car is everything but a lover in and of itself.
I am more than willing to make the four hour car trip both ways, with a boyfriend who hates Flint and will say so often, and his mother, to go pick up this beautiful thing. A four hour trip is worth a Lifestyle Change.
So, because of it's status in my mind, nay, my heart, I woke up at six this morning, and Michael and I went to go get his mother (don't ask why, it's not important to the story,) and we embarked upon our journey. Tank filled, coffee and Monster in hand, we ascend upon the dawn. I am wearing a turtleneck and niiiice jeans (to cover tattoos and look delicious,) and begin to think that maybe the weather doesn't really allow for turtlenecks. "Whatever," I think, giddily, to myself, for I am on a journey to get my now totally-belonging-to-me 1992 Buick LeSabre.
We get to my home in Flint, I drive my car (MY car! My Lifestyle Change!), Michael and his mother are in his car, my sister Monica and mother are in Monica's car. We all drive to the Olive Garden and eat, and chat, and gossip. Times are good. I rarely have enjoyed time with family as I did then. I outed myself as a tattooed person to my sister. Times were good. We pay the bills, give our hugs, and take our pictures, as it is time to leave. This is where the joke gets really good.
I get in my brand new Lifestyle Change and put the key in. I turn....and it doesn't start. I continue. Nothing. We try to jump it, nothing. I realize shortly after that the coil panel? Pack? Coil thing by the battery...needs to be replaced.
We drove four hours for lunch. My car is in a garage in Flint.
WAIT WAIT, IT GETS BETTER!
My mother and sister, when the car is fixed, cannot bring it to me. I have the title. The insurance is in my name. Her plates aren't even valid. This car is not legal. This Lifestyle Change is not legal. She can't just drive it to me. We must make this exhausting drive again next Sunday.
*Two snare hits and a high-hat!* Thank you ladies and gentlemen!
