I wish I could say I'm one of those people who get knocked down, but get up again and never let anyone keep them down. I'm not. (I will, however, take a whiskey drink, vodka drink, lager drink and a cider drink, please.) My Danny boy is the same way... except he got knocked down, got back up again, got knocked back down and really just stayed down... for a good long time.
I guess I should explain. Danny Boy is my car. And the above paragraph was an allusion to the Chumbawamba song, "Tubthumping." No, I did not just name my car "Danny Boy" so I could reference another horrible 90s song, the car belonged to my grandfather, who was Irish and I thought it was an appropriate name. Another reason why I haven't written in a long time is because I had some epic car trouble.
It all started with the emergency brake had a complete BRAKEdown.... as in, it really just snapped and fell out of the bottom of my car. I finally saved up enough money to get that fixed and have it looked over so I could go through the winter with no problem besides my absolute hatred of snow and cold. Immediately after I had the car in the shop, my coolant light came on while driving into the city. Thinking it was only a minor problem and being a girl who knows nothing about cars, I kept driving. Then, driving to work the next day, my loyal Cavy completely ignored all the PSAs I forced him to watch about how smoking is bad for your health. He finally went kaput in the parking lot of the evil place. And, yes, I had to call a tow truck to tow it from one side of the parking lot to the opposing Sears' lot, but they claimed it was the head gasket without even looking at my car. So the tow truck driver was nice and recommended another place to take it to. Turns out my thermostat went all emo teenager and sealed itself off from the rest of the car. I'm currently selling pumpkin rolls to pay off this repair. (They're tasty! Buy one!)
For the next repair, I'm currently looking for a brothel where I can sell... well, you know. (Just kidding!...maybe). Thank God I am now in possession of a voodoo doll so I can exact revenge on Sears. I finally got a call from a real honest-to-goodness tv gig... for one day. But it's a start. And whaddayaknow, that day my car decides to get in the Christmas spirit early and light up the pretty red "Check engine" light and pretty much break down...and stayed down this time. He was towed to Latrobe because there is a mechanic there I trust who gives me a really good deals. Turns out it really was the head gasket this time. I blame Sears. This was an incredibly costly repair, which probably wasn't even worth it, but might I reiterate it was my grandfather's car and I really don't want to get rid of it. So after a lot of driving back and forth with my parents car and begging for rides, I could have had him back last week, but I am a yellow bellied coward and forced my father to drive my poor, poor Cavy for a week before taking it back. That way he could deal with any problems.
The final incident occurred tonight when I stopped to get gas and put in a whole $1.02 before the tank started overflowing. Now, I gave my parents back their car with almost a full tank of gas... my loving father left me mine with a quarter tank. So I took the nozzle out and tried it again only to spill a few more cents on the ground. I might be rather inept around cars, but really, all you have to do is put the stick into the hole and while I might be challenged with that concept in other areas of my life, it's the one automobile thing I am completely capable of... although I did just learn where to put the windshield wiper fluid! So I did what most other girls would do- call up her father and yell because clearly something else was wrong with my car. And he did fix the problem for me. He told me to move to another pump. It worked.
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