This weekend we tried starting the old church van, but it wouldn’t even make a sound. We tried calling a mechanic who told us to tap on the starter with a hammer while turning the ignition and it should start right up. But it didn’t. We then called my dad who’s had quite a history with old church vans. He told us to put the van into gear, rock it back and forth, and then start it. Sure, what a joke. Well we tried it and, what do ya know, it worked. My guess would have been to rub your tummy, pat your nose, jump up and down, and spin in a circle, but I guess that wasn’t necessary.
You rub against your fender and a huge pile of rust settles on the ground.
Your passengers have to get out and walk because you can’t make it up the hill.
You accelerate and brake really hard when you drive somebody’s new car because you’re used to sticky pedals.
You hold a contest to see who can make the biggest dent on your hood.
You can’t tell if the road is bumpy, or if the duct tape just needs to be replaced.
Changing your oil and putting air in your tires is a weekly habit.
You can’t hear the stereo over the rattling noises.
You’ve paid more for repairs than you originally paid for your car and the repairman knows you by name.
You no longer lock your car doors. Not only because you haven’t the slightest worry of your car being stolen, but because you’re afraid that you might not be able to get it open again if you do.
The only time your cruise works is when you are being towed.
I have a lot of friends. And I’m not sure, but I think it might have something to do with the fact that I own a car. Either way, I get a lot of people asking me for rides. One thing I find interesting is how the person who rides in the passenger seat usually seems to think that he has his own little brake that he can use when he wants the car to slow down. When I come to a turn or a stop sign or something, I have fun watching their leg get tense as they push their imaginary brake. It’s not like I drive very fast. I’m actually one of those geeky speed limit drivers. But with my luck, I would probably get pulled over for going three miles over the speed limit. I learned a lot from my older brother. I used to ride with him quite a bit and, well, he sort of showed me what not to do. And I always had fun pushing my own imaginary brake.
I’m beginning to wonder if females shouldn’t be allowed to drive. My brother just got rear ended in a fast food drive through a couple days ago by a girl driver. And just this morning there was this lady following about two feet behind me going 55. Are they just impatient, or is it a more complex mental problem that women have? They sure can play basketball, but driving? Whatever the case may be, something must be done to ensure the safety of everyone else on the road. And this isn’t exactly comforting, considering that the Death Clock says that I have exactly 1,711,519,492 seconds to live.
On my way in to work this morning, I had some good time to think as I dodged all the potholes. And I wasn’t just pondering about the usual life and love and why. What I asked myself was… When are they going to invent those cool hover cars we see in all the movies? I don’t know how much more of these crumby roads my car tires can take. I mean lets face it, the wheel was a nice invention in it’s time, but I think cars can do better without them. That’s why today’s mission is to put the wheel in the museum. Besides not having to worry about all the potholes, neither would traction be an issue, because the car doesn’t touch the road in the first place. The only obstacles we would have to overcome would be…well gravity for one. Everybody else can have their bumpy rides and slippery roads, but anyone who knows me knows that I don’t think the same way as everybody else. Okay, so maybe I don’t think at all. Yeah, I know this one is just as crazy as all my other ideas, but this one’s gonna work I’m tellin ya…