My Car Broke Down
Friday started like any other day. . . with a hangover. And from there on, things just went south.
I woke up with a smile on my face after St. Patrick's night. As always I had my cup of coffee and my smoothie; read the news and checked the e-mail. I went to the gym, where there was not a single soul and did my little routine that included twenty five minutes jogging and then some weights. I then had to go to the bank to do some shit for my mom and then to mail a letter for my sister.
Well, I'll be damn! When I got back to the car from the post office, the car didn't started. That red bastard! When I cranked it the car kind of started, but didn't started -I hope you know what I'm saying. The thing is that that shit didn't started and there I was, with my gym outfit, hungry like a lion and with the car all fucked up. I called my super-mechanic and the bastard didn't answer the phone. Later that day I learnt that he was back in Mexico visiting his family (I hope he can make it back to the US). I called a couple of "friends" and well, they were just useless. So, I had to call my ex-mechanic, and of course he was available -I want to point out here that I didn't call the son of a bitch that riped me off, I'd rather walk with a broken foot than having to call him.
At this time it was around three thirty and I was suppose to be working at six thirty; and there I was, in the middle of the parking lot, hungry, my eyes red with fury and the car being good for nothing. I went to a grocery store near by while waiting for Bill, the mechanic, to come and tow my car, so I got me some dinner rolls and a Coke for lunch.
When we got to the shop, one of the mechanics was available and he got to check the car right away. Needless to say, he tried to start the car and that bastard started without any problem, can you believe it? -I mean, the fucking Murphy's Law right in my face! The mechanic anyway said that it was maybe the gasoline filter, that was "dead" by his own words. He changed it and voila, everything was fine. At five thirty I stepped on the gas heading home and with ninety dollars and ninety nine cents less in my bank account.
I don't know how I did it but I got to work right on time. Which is good, because what I made tonight can barely cover the mechanic, the bread and the soda.
As one of the Murphy's Laws says "If one thing goes wrong, many more will follow suit at the same time". The gasoline filter was only one little thing in the whole problem and the car is not doing fine yet. Later that night when I wanted to start the car, it took me like ten minutes. I though I was going to have to leave it there and call a cab, but thanks God it finally started.
Next morning, Saturday, I went to the see the mechanic and after two and a half hours checking everything, he couldn't tell what was wrong. Only one thing was left to do: check the pressure for the gasoline pump, which was working, but how good, who knows? He didn't have the gauge needed to check it so I have to go back on Monday. I'm afraid is going to be that, because that will cost me around 200 greens and will wipe out the little cash that still sits in my bank account. But I'm more afraid that the gasoline pump is fine, because then I'll have to call that TV show called "Unsolved Mysteries" in order to make a special program for my car.
Today Sunday I'm stuck in my condo, afraid of going out in my car as it might not start again, ever. I'll have to live today on coffee, water, milk, some cereal that I still have, beer, wine, butter, olive oil, salt, pepper and some chilly powder which is the only thing available in my kitchen.
Or I could just walk to the Chinese buffet down the street and pile up on all the grease that my little self can take.
I woke up with a smile on my face after St. Patrick's night. As always I had my cup of coffee and my smoothie; read the news and checked the e-mail. I went to the gym, where there was not a single soul and did my little routine that included twenty five minutes jogging and then some weights. I then had to go to the bank to do some shit for my mom and then to mail a letter for my sister.Well, I'll be damn! When I got back to the car from the post office, the car didn't started. That red bastard! When I cranked it the car kind of started, but didn't started -I hope you know what I'm saying. The thing is that that shit didn't started and there I was, with my gym outfit, hungry like a lion and with the car all fucked up. I called my super-mechanic and the bastard didn't answer the phone. Later that day I learnt that he was back in Mexico visiting his family (I hope he can make it back to the US). I called a couple of "friends" and well, they were just useless. So, I had to call my ex-mechanic, and of course he was available -I want to point out here that I didn't call the son of a bitch that riped me off, I'd rather walk with a broken foot than having to call him.
At this time it was around three thirty and I was suppose to be working at six thirty; and there I was, in the middle of the parking lot, hungry, my eyes red with fury and the car being good for nothing. I went to a grocery store near by while waiting for Bill, the mechanic, to come and tow my car, so I got me some dinner rolls and a Coke for lunch.
When we got to the shop, one of the mechanics was available and he got to check the car right away. Needless to say, he tried to start the car and that bastard started without any problem, can you believe it? -I mean, the fucking Murphy's Law right in my face! The mechanic anyway said that it was maybe the gasoline filter, that was "dead" by his own words. He changed it and voila, everything was fine. At five thirty I stepped on the gas heading home and with ninety dollars and ninety nine cents less in my bank account.
I don't know how I did it but I got to work right on time. Which is good, because what I made tonight can barely cover the mechanic, the bread and the soda.
As one of the Murphy's Laws says "If one thing goes wrong, many more will follow suit at the same time". The gasoline filter was only one little thing in the whole problem and the car is not doing fine yet. Later that night when I wanted to start the car, it took me like ten minutes. I though I was going to have to leave it there and call a cab, but thanks God it finally started.Next morning, Saturday, I went to the see the mechanic and after two and a half hours checking everything, he couldn't tell what was wrong. Only one thing was left to do: check the pressure for the gasoline pump, which was working, but how good, who knows? He didn't have the gauge needed to check it so I have to go back on Monday. I'm afraid is going to be that, because that will cost me around 200 greens and will wipe out the little cash that still sits in my bank account. But I'm more afraid that the gasoline pump is fine, because then I'll have to call that TV show called "Unsolved Mysteries" in order to make a special program for my car.
Today Sunday I'm stuck in my condo, afraid of going out in my car as it might not start again, ever. I'll have to live today on coffee, water, milk, some cereal that I still have, beer, wine, butter, olive oil, salt, pepper and some chilly powder which is the only thing available in my kitchen.
Or I could just walk to the Chinese buffet down the street and pile up on all the grease that my little self can take.
Jean-Francois was drunk at 11:11 AM
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