As I mentioned, both cars died within a week of one another. We now have one car at the mechanic (declared dead, hoping someone will buy it for parts) and one in the driveway. Of course, its not registered (the car dealership we purchased it from doesn’t hire the brightest bulbs on the tree) and they had to give us another one to use while they straighten it all out. The saga never ends.
Here’s J trying in vain to start his car the night before the donation people towed it away. He wasn’t too sad about it.
This is why he wasn’t too sad about it — the new car (Big Red):
And here is my car at the mechanics. We went to get the plates off, and clean it out, but we (I) forgot the key and the WD-40. Oops. At least I still have a chance to say a formal goodbye to her.
Lastly, this is the car my dad wants me to buy: a 1993 Buick Century. It only has 80,000 miles, but, really, I have my pride.