Saturday, May 19, 2007

Far from Perfect Timing

I've tried really hard to be brave and strong and grown-up and practical and thrifty. It hasn't been easy. I've come close to losing it a few times, pulling back from the brink of tears as I swallow the rising screams and stop short of throwing myself on the floor and howling like the baby I feel.

I looked out of the window. There was nothing to see, just a big empty oil-spattered space where my car should have been. I'd abandoned it on my mechanic's forecourt at 8.30pm the previous night with the assistance of a Polish recovery truck driver. I took the bus. It took forever. The next day I hired a car.

Gordon, my mechanic, sucked his teeth a lot and gave me his usual advice. ' Throw it away and start again'. Only I couldn't really afford to do that, not twice in one year. Disposable cars aren't good for the environment or the soul.

I ventured inside a car showroom one night on my way home from work. I think I know how some people feel when visiting the dentist. I waited for the shiny-suited salesman to hand a set of keys to a teenager with daft hair and an assortment of dafter mates in tow. They drove out in a sexy little Golf. That uplifted me slightly. If he could afford that on his pocket-money, maybe I might be able to get something reasonable after all. It didn't take long for the spotty salesman to bring me back to my melancholy default setting as he showed me a car in my price range - a Kia Picanto - a lacquered shoe box with a steering wheel stuck on it.

I waited until I'd reached the sanctuary of my hired Micra ( surprisingly nice to drive with the added bonus that you can't see how shit it looks when you are sitting in the driver's seat) before allowing a sob or several to escape.

I've since bought a cylinder head from a breaker's yard hidden amongst a labyrinth of streets somewhere in the depths of 1950s Hull. Gordon doesn't seem to be in any rush to transplant the donor engine and continues to predict a 50:50 chance of survival.

I popped along to see Archbishop Desmond Tutu, hoping some of his serenity would infect me, provide me with some perspective against real issues, third world debt, slavery, international conflict. It didn't. I'm still a completely miserable, inadequate, snivelling no-hoper with no car, money nor currently any way of getting to the airport next week. It did give me the chance to offer directions to a visiting American history professor looking for the Wilberforce Institute of Slavery and Emancipation. His name badge announced him to be ' Randy J. Sparks'. Now that cheered me up.




14 Comments:

Blogger Dave said...

So sorry. I'd offer you a lift to the airport but:

a (as you know) Norfolk/Lincolnshire/airport isn't the most direct route,

b If two of you need the lift, you won't both get in my car.

Chin up!

7:57 am  
Anonymous Beki said...

Randy Sparks - poor guy doesn't need to play the 'whats your porn name'!!

Hope you are back behind a working wheel soo!

2:30 pm  
Blogger Cherry Rolfe said...

Deepest commiserations - cars are so great - when they go. I hope you can revive yours.

4:44 pm  
Blogger Within Without said...

So this is where you've been all this time...stuck in a Polish lorry driver's passenger seat.

I hope, lovely Cherry, that you turn cheery and get an automobile that functions.

1:08 am  
Blogger Carmenzta said...

Cherry, welcome back! I missed you. Oh God, I hate car trouble, and you know as well as I do that when you are a woman that knows nothing about engines or mechanical things, it is a scary world out there. You have my sympathy.

8:08 pm  
Blogger homo escapeons said...

I missed you Cherry Pie!
I've met two of Randy's brothers,
Warren Peace and Rip Torn.

You need directions to the Automotive Institute of Freedom and Emancipation.

Plans C,D & E are?

7:52 pm  
Blogger Cream said...

Are you coming back to bloglife by instalments, Cherrybabe?

Good luck with your car.

7:55 am  
Blogger homo escapeons said...

Ullo Cherry Gotta A New Motor?
Thank Vicus for infecting me brain with that one! Check it out.

8:16 pm  
Blogger Joyce said...

I was just so happy not to see those flip flop sandals again.... but sorry about the car!

4:30 am  
Blogger kj said...

cp, what's with the poverty? a woman of your status and many attributes should have the car of her choice. if the universe fails to cooperate, let me know.

ps be well

4:53 am  
Blogger ziggi said...

I can lend you a 1 horse power, eh, horse!

6:36 pm  
Blogger Rrramone said...

Enjoyed this post, and REALLY enjoying this song you got playing! :-)

12:33 pm  
Blogger Mise said...

Cars ...never had any 'meas' ...gaelic for affection for them ..once they get me from here to there and back, they'll do ...but yours doesn't now so I understand your annoyance and frustration ... :D

12:26 am  
Blogger cocaine jesus said...

i see that you have chosen to ignore my requests and pleas NOT to sneak into my boudoir and take pictures of me in my favourite tutu.
if you persist i will have to send the boys round!

(we know where you live!)

3:02 pm  

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