Car Trouble
I've been rough on my car the last couple of days. Yesterday morning I accidentally left the trunk door slightly open after driving the trash out to the road. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but the latch sensor decided to work again (coincidence, I think not!) and so my lights were left for about 9 hours. I noticed when it got dark. Oops. The car wouldn't start, and it was cold. I had a portable battery charger once, but I gave it to my sister.
This morning I get the car to start, but it had been so windy that a snow drifts block the exit from the driveway. Foolishly, I put the car in four-wheel drive and step on the gas. Stuck. Fuck. I rock back and forth trying to get out, but instead I slide sideways into the drainage ditch. Luckily, two of the wheels are still on the driveway and I am able to stick the car in four-wheel drive low and brute force my way out.
Only then I can't get out of four-wheel drive. It just won't let me. So I slowly drive a bit up the mountain. People pile up behind me and give me nasty glares. I pull over a couple of times until finally it decides to let me disengage. This is not an uncommon problem, so in general I try to avoid four-wheel drive low.
So far so good. I'm running a bit late, but it happens.
Now I'm racing down the mountain, trying to make up for lost time, reprogramming my preset radio stations with one hand and steering with the other. I fly around a curve just a bit too fast and my water bottle jumps off the passenger seat and slides underneath my pedals. Great. I try to brake and fish around for the bottle when I realize the damn thing knocked over a can of Fanta I'd left open in the car the night before when I was blow-drying the goddamn battery. The spill seems to be contained in the console, though, so I decide to drive until the next pullout.
I watch the sea of Fanta swash around violently in the console. That's a nice little accelerometer, I think. And then I notice that the sea-level seems to be going down. It's leaking. I make it to the pullout, but it's really too late — most of the soda has leaked out the bottom of the console into the nether regions of my car. I spend the next couple of minutes doing damage control, absorbing what I can with a roll of toilet paper in the back, mopping out the cup holders, swearing at my own stupidity.
I get back on my way and finish the drive down to Boulder. I manage to find a parking place, but it's so icy I need to get back into four-wheel drive to actually park. As I pack up, I notice the smell of orange soda has gotten stronger stronger, much stronger. I cautiously stick my hand below the seat. The carpet is wet, very, wet, with Fanta naranja. I swab at it a bit with more toilet paper, but, really, it's hopeless. I decide to roll down the window and let it dry/freeze and forget about it (because if you ignore things, they tend to go away, right?).
From outside the car, I am overpowered by a pungent fishy odor — it smells like nuoc nam and burning rubber. I steal a glance over at the console. The parking brake is on.
When they revolution comes, they won't let people like me drive.