The care I give my car can only be accurately termed neglect. When mechanics hear how often I change my oil their looks of disgust rival the kinds of looks I might receive for leaving a child unattended for the same length of time.
That’s why when I was at Auto Zone the other day I didn’t feel compelled to tell the clerk exactly how long I’ve been driving around without an oil cap, pouring oil into the tank as needed.
I think it’s been about a month since I first lost that cap. The front of my car was covered in oil and bugs and the man glanced at me warily, "Is this from your car?" There wasn’t a point in denying it since as soon as he popped the hood he would risk drowning in the oil that would pour off of it. I thought about offering him some paper towels, but then I thought that a professional like him probably knew what he was doing. I’m pleased to say that he’s recovering nicely.
I also bought new windshield wipers since the ones on my car have never worked. It’s much less of an adventure to drive in the rain now, but I’m enjoying the novelty of seeing the road.
Yesterday one of my co-workers informed me that my tire was flat. Her tone indicated that anyone who lets their car get a flat tire probably also sacrifices cats at midnight, but one of my other co-workers confessed that she had a flat just the other day, and not only was her tire flat, but she’d broken the rim. I’m glad to know I’m not the only non-cat-sacrificer who gets flats, but I was a little worried about the rim of my tire. Forget money, I don’t have the time to get new tires.
I spent most of my lunch break swearing at my car, and occasionally the people around me, under my breath. For whatever reason Firestone has seen fit to recess the air valve-nozzle-thing so that one must reach through the hubcap to twist off the cap. If the cap does not want to come off you’re out of luck. You will probably cut off the tip of your finger before you get anywhere with that cap.
But eventually I got things all worked out and was amazed at how high my car sits off the ground when there’s actual air in the tires (it’s a much smoother ride too!). I was still worried about that rim, but my tired hasn’t flattened out since yesterday afternoon so I think it’s ok.
I think that since my car has come through all of this trauma so well I owe it some kind of reward. Maybe I’ll take it to one of those automated car washes. My car would like that.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
In my...Chevy?
Posted by Melody at 27.9.07
Labels: happenings, trauma
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1 comments:
My name is Emily. (Hi, Emily.) ...and I let my tires get flat, too.
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