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emmanation

You like me! Of course, you probably don't know me very well.

10 minutes of living dangerously

October 28th, 2010 by biscuit

I bought my car, brand spanking new, in 2005. It looks like this.

With a few more dings.

Ok, fine, a lot more dings. What? I’ve had it for five years and three months. That’s a long time to not run into ANYTHING. Right?

I bought a new car, way back then, because I can’t really be trusted to take good care of things without a lot of reminders. When you get a new one, I figured, the dealership helps you remember to do things like change your oil, and if they were helping, I’d totally get it done.

In retrospect, that’s not true. I mean, the reminders are sort of true, but the me actually taking care of my car just because of the occasional email?

Not true.

I think the only way I will ever have a vehicle that gets all of its maintenance in a timely manner is if someone drives to my house and forcibly takes it from me to perform said maintenance. Is there a service that does that?

Anyway, today I went to Jiffy Lube. My ‘maintenance needed’ light came on some time in July, so I figured it was about time.  I only have 35,000 miles on the car, so don’t get all huffy – it’s not like I’m putting on a thousand miles a week here, y’all. 35k in five years. (Dear everyone who isn’t my father: the huffy comment was not directed at you – I know you won’t get huffy!)

I drove in, made my selections, turned down a new air filter for the cabin (it’s THE OUTSIDE – why am I filtering outdoor air out of my car? This makes no sense to me. Outdoor air is awesome.), and sat down to wait.

Ten minutes later, a tech came in laughing and asked me how I got the huge yellow streak and dent on the top edge of the roof. Apparently they each tried to come up with a way it could have happened, and I was to settle it for them.

I explained. He chortled and returned to work.

I think that before I told him that it was a parking garage incident, they thought I was some sort of rule breaking badass – that perhaps I’d driven through a pedestrian underpass in pursuit of a shoplifter, or gone off a jump in a skate park in my car and hit a lightpost.

I wish I’d told one of those stories instead. For 10 minutes there, I WAS a badass.

Not a girl who misjudges her turn radius in parking garages.

Oh well.

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4 Responses to “10 minutes of living dangerously”

  1. Awlbiste says:

    My car has an AWESOME amount of dings and scratches and little dents. The entire passenger side has like 15 pockmarks, I tell people it was in a BB-gun driveby shooting.

    I don’t actually know what it’s from, I bought it used.

  2. biscuit says:

    BB-gun driveby! Oh, how I hope that I get to also use that story some day.

  3. Laura says:

    You’ll always be a badass to me. Oh, and I really like your long hair (maybe this applies to the other post?). I was going to tell you that today. You, too, can be one of those belt/shoe matching, hair-loving superior people!

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