My Mechanical Child

This is my car, some of you have met her already. I love her. It's odd really. My other car, who is now dead and gone, was so hated by me. Well, she was appreciated, but definitely not beloved. In fact I think there was a type of sabotage on my part where she was concerned, like I wanted her to die because she was not the car I wanted in the first place. I had wanted, that's right, a blue Saab. But everyone said "Don't do it." that it was an irresponsible choice, and I would certainly regret it. So I didn't. My Corolla and I tolerated each other for four years. I'm quite sure she knew she wasn't loved. Maybe that explains all her bad behavior. Anyway, this time around, I tried to talk myself out of a Saab, I looked at all the Honda Civics I could find with more than 110,000 miles on them. But again, the blue Saab hatchback was calling my name. One friend did tell me straight up it was a terrible idea, that if I wanted a Saab I should wait til I could spend the money to get a new one. But the reality of the situation is that if I had money I would never buy a Saab. Yuck, I don't like new Saab's. I realized then that I only ever wanted this quirky, old Swedish-ish hatchback. And now was my opportunity. It was the right car at the right time for the right price.  And so she is mine.

She whistles at me every morning when I walk out to her, and so I say hello. She is like a darling little pet. Recently however we have been having some issues with the alarm system. As in, it goes off...a lot. To the point where if she doesn't whistle at me when I hit the lock button, I know there will be trouble later, and sometimes even if she does. I just tell her to be a good girl and hope for the best. Car alarms are special little things. Each car has a different one, and different things make different cars go off. Which in my car's case is everything. I was out on the Potomac last week sitting on the rocks, my car parked way back out on the road. I was talking to a friend and all of a sudden I shushed him, I thought I heard a familiar sound. Sure enough it was my car's alarm, she's loud.

Oh dear. 

I was laying in my bed last night, relaxing after a long beautiful day in the country side. All of a sudden she blew. I threw on clothes and ran down the stairs out the the car. I tried to push the auto lock/unlock buttons, didn't work. I actually got in the car and started it, nothing. I put it in and out of gear, no luck. I was freaking out, my neighbors were going to start throwing eggs at us, it was SOOO loud. I didn't know what else to do but to start driving. So I'm driving down the city block, my car alarm blaring, and I see a cop pulling up behind me, then the lights go on. Great! I pull over roll down the window and try to yell over the alarm. "Sorry! I can't get her to stop!!" Meanwhile he's calling in my plate number. I think after he saw my disheveled hair and mismatched pj's and coat he smiled and said not to worry, that he just wanted to make sure the car wasn't being stolen. Of course another cop car pulled up right behind him. So the two cops have me surrounded, lights going, my car won't stop screaming, and they are just laughing at me. Finally I got out of the car and got her to whistle at me, which immediately shut her up of course.

Seriously, I think this is my current equivalent of having a child. That was a crazy ruckus to be making at midnight. And yet, in the end I just sighed, sternly told her I had better not have to come back out that night, patted her on the hood, and went back to bed.

She just needs some TLC in the form of yanking out the electric wires hooked up to the alarm system, and she'll be all better.