On day 680...
Yesterday was a sad day in our parking lot. Through my retelling of the following events, I hope to somehow cathartically dispel some of the pain I have experienced.
The powers of nature, and nature's God, and my wife, forcefully inclined me to dispose of my faithful vehicle which has so dutifully served me for the last 5 years of my life.
To add insult to an already serious injury, when I called to ask how much the salvage yard would pay me for my '89 Pontiac Bonneville, the guy laughed at me, and then hung up. I frantically called back and asked how much I would have to pay him to take my car away. (He was more willing to talk the second time around.)
To close the final chapter of my sidekick's existence, the wrecker was 35 minutes late, and had three teeth, two hands, and one leg.
Though, like all faithful friends, this one had its weaknesses, I will miss my car forever.
Farewell my friend...
A
(Well, ok, he did have 2 legs...but it sounded better the other way.)
1 comment:
A good woman helps her man see his car more clearly, through her eyes, and encourages the process of separation from his adolescent self as personified by his now non-functioning vehicle. Good riddance. :)
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