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My family, being from a farm, tends to maintain a pool of vehicles that oftentimes rotates between my parents, myself, and my two siblings. My previous vehicle, recently deemed to be unsafe at any speed (once my brother started driving it) has been rotated out of commission.
The other day, I once again swapped vehicles, also with my brother. It should be noted that the car in question had been in his possession for less than a week, and in no way belonged to him.
I provided him with:
One (1) well-cleaned car,
One (1) full tank of gas.
He, in turn, provided me with:
One (1) demon hell car, with:
One half (1/2) tank of gas,
One half (1/2) package of cigarettes,
One and one half (1 1/2) cups of cheezies, liberally sprinkled throughout the car and dash,
One (1) cup of trail mix, liberally sprinkled throughout the car and dash,
Twenty three (23) various papers and receipts,
Too many (!!) sunflower seed shells,
Three (3) unwashed socks,
Two (2) one-litre bottles of pop, empty,
One (1) package of "Blueberry flavoured roll paper" (DO NOT WANT TO KNOW)
One dollar fifty three ($1.53) in loose change, mostly pennies and nickles,
Various and assorted debris, and:
The unquantifiably nasty odour of cigarette smoking , complicated by the nauseating "fresh pine" odour of dime-store air fresheners. (Can we say 'EWW,' people?)
This car is much, much nicer than my old one, which burned more oil than gas, needed to be plugged in to a block heater any time the temperature dropped below -15C (which is large swaths of the year in Saskatchewan), had a non-functioning driver's window and almost non-functioning heater, accelerated too slowly to turn left in the city, and tended to die unexpected in intersections.
This car has temperature control! Acceleration! An alarm system!
And, gentle readers, it is in the alarm system that lies the rub. The car was purchased at an estate sale, as as such, didn't come with much of an instruction manual. I've been in and out of the car seven times today, for various reasons, and on six of these, the alarm has gone off. We don't know why it does so, but at random and frequent intervals, the alarm goes off as you unlock the door. As a crowning touch, it ate my phone, necessitating three of the in-and-outs as I searched for the beast.
You would think that at this point I would be anticipating it and braced for the sudden audible impact. In this, you would be mistaken as the demon hell car appears intent upon giving me a heart attack -- I have oftentimes been described as being as skittish as a hamster on speed, so I hope that you will see the danger inherent in this situation.
The other day, I once again swapped vehicles, also with my brother. It should be noted that the car in question had been in his possession for less than a week, and in no way belonged to him.
I provided him with:
One (1) well-cleaned car,
One (1) full tank of gas.
He, in turn, provided me with:
One (1) demon hell car, with:
One half (1/2) tank of gas,
One half (1/2) package of cigarettes,
One and one half (1 1/2) cups of cheezies, liberally sprinkled throughout the car and dash,
One (1) cup of trail mix, liberally sprinkled throughout the car and dash,
Twenty three (23) various papers and receipts,
Too many (!!) sunflower seed shells,
Three (3) unwashed socks,
Two (2) one-litre bottles of pop, empty,
One (1) package of "Blueberry flavoured roll paper" (DO NOT WANT TO KNOW)
One dollar fifty three ($1.53) in loose change, mostly pennies and nickles,
Various and assorted debris, and:
The unquantifiably nasty odour of cigarette smoking , complicated by the nauseating "fresh pine" odour of dime-store air fresheners. (Can we say 'EWW,' people?)
This car is much, much nicer than my old one, which burned more oil than gas, needed to be plugged in to a block heater any time the temperature dropped below -15C (which is large swaths of the year in Saskatchewan), had a non-functioning driver's window and almost non-functioning heater, accelerated too slowly to turn left in the city, and tended to die unexpected in intersections.
This car has temperature control! Acceleration! An alarm system!
And, gentle readers, it is in the alarm system that lies the rub. The car was purchased at an estate sale, as as such, didn't come with much of an instruction manual. I've been in and out of the car seven times today, for various reasons, and on six of these, the alarm has gone off. We don't know why it does so, but at random and frequent intervals, the alarm goes off as you unlock the door. As a crowning touch, it ate my phone, necessitating three of the in-and-outs as I searched for the beast.
You would think that at this point I would be anticipating it and braced for the sudden audible impact. In this, you would be mistaken as the demon hell car appears intent upon giving me a heart attack -- I have oftentimes been described as being as skittish as a hamster on speed, so I hope that you will see the danger inherent in this situation.
