Thursday, December 6, 2007

Easy target for serial killers and/or genetically mutated homicidal creatures.

We have 2 vehicles. One is a 2000 Dodge Caravan. In case you ever wondered what the difference is between a Caravan and a Grand Caravan – it’s the size of the back seat. It’s actually possible for an adult to sit in the back seat of a Grand Caravan whereas sitting in the back seat of the smaller Caravan requires folding yourself in half in such a way that you could scratch your ass with your teeth. Just something to keep in mind if you’re ever shopping for mini-vans.

We also have a 1995 Chevy Lumina which we bought used and all in all it’s been a good vehicle. It’s fairly reliable and actually has a pretty powerful engine in it. Sometimes I get a little tingly when I tromp on the gas and it responds so forcefully as I'm passing someone. It makes me feel like Danica Patrick, except I would have actually won a race by now.

The problem with the Lumina is that, well, it’s old, and as we all know way too well, not everything works exactly like it should when you get older. It’s like the automotive version of sagging tits.

The brake lights only work when you pull the turn signal lever slightly towards you, which of course, is the same lever that switches the headlights from low to bright so I’m constantly inadvertently flashing my brights at people. The windshield washer fluid doesn’t work, and the odometer has a habit of failing to function until you give it a little tap and realize that you’re going 65 in a 35 mph zone.

Buy my favorite quirk of all occurs in the winter months; the gearshift sticks. It’s an automatic and the gearshift is mounted on the floor and it’s one of those that you have to grab the handle and push in the button on the side of the lever with your thumb before shifting out of park or into reverse, etc. Well for some reason, when it gets cold out, the car’s not too keen on getting out of Park and it sticks.

So inevitably every morning I’m sitting in the driveway fiddling with the gearshift. Sometimes it likes it gentle and all you have to do is wiggle it around a little to get that button to depress. Other times it likes it rough and I literally have to put one hand on the gear shift and with the other hand punch the button with all the strength I can muster to get the thing to budge. It was so stubborn the other morning that I had to get poor Matt out of bed to get the thing out of Park. Thankfully though once you get it out of Park that first time it doesn’t stick again- well until the next time you try to start the car and it’s been sitting in the cold.

Every time it happens though I feel like one of those pathetic people in those really cliché horror flicks, you know the ones where the only thing standing between them and escape from the immortal masked serial killer is a car with a faulty starter. The only difference is that my car will actually start, it’s just that I can’t get it into gear before a two headed genetically mutated viper snatches me right out of the driver’s seat.

1 comment:

Got Grammer said...

I think Carrie knows a really good mechanic that can take a look at that for you. Probably wont cost you a dime!!