As mentioned in a previous post, I cured my New Car Fever by signing away my car search to Paul-the-Mechanic. Not a mechanic like in that movie with the killing and the explosions and that guy who is always in movies with killing and explosions. Paul fixes cars, and doesn’t (to my knowledge) blow things up or shoot people.
He rode forth into battle on my behalf, tires screaming as he swung his car Vin-Diezel style into the parking lot of the used car auction. He brought with him the mighty sword of “Alex’s List of Wants”, and the shield of “Alex says she can afford up to…”, along with his side-kick Pat-the-other-mechanic. He sent me messages via carrier pigeon to keep me updated on the battle.
“Red! The steed I do battle for today, fair maiden, is RED, and it shall be called Matrix” – Good luck, Sir Mechanic for Matrix pleases me greatly and I admire its shiny red coat.
“Forgive me maiden, for I have failed to acquire Matrix for your stables – his gain came at too high a price. Wilt thou accept a nag of similar descent to your own current steed?” – NAY! For it has sliding doors and lacks in efficiency and agility. It is also of the uncool-persuasion, and I am lacking in soccer-children to place within it. Seek out hatchbacks, for I will have no other breed!
“I fight for the honor of acquiring for you a black steed with leather interiors and ye-olde-moone-roofe, it is nearly never ridden, and shall be a mighty triumph” – Brave sir-mechanic, I do enjoy a steed that can let the light in from above. Fetch me this Mazda, so long as it is as worthy as you say it is.
“The blackguard who attempted to sell me that nag failed to disguise its true nature. It is tampered with and in over-rough condition for the riding they claim it has received. I shall return triumphant with a slightly more well-ridden but also more well-cared-for Silver Destrier!” – Knaves! Disguising a nag as a steed! But Huzzah for the possibility of a destrier!
Finally, I heard good news – the silver destrier is in Paul-the-mechanic’s care and on its way to the stables, there to be further inspected prior to its being gifted to me. Gifted in the loosest meaning of the word, that is.
“Fair maiden, come fetch thine newest steed in exchange for your more cumbersome greenish-nag and a certified cheque from thine bank or money-lender. Bring also proof of insurance and proof of ownership of the cumbersome nag.”
Or something like that.
What does this translate to? Apart from “Alex is a bit over-imaginative and likes writing in vaguely old-time wording”? Alex nearly has a new car, and it is silver… dark silver! Also, Alex is using this writing as a way of not focusing on (and stressing about) donating blood later today, because she becomes nauseated at the idea of needles, but feels that the cause is worthy of forging on regardless of nausea.
I went to inspect it last night. One mechanic drove it up to the front of the shop for me to inspect. Three of them opened all the doors and the back hatch, and the hood. Three of them watched me walk around the car, peering into the back seat, trying to picture Gwynn tucked in there or sitting up in the front seat. One of them came up beside me when I reached the hood. I looked, and there, before my very eyes, was… an engine. I think. Three mechanics looked at me expectantly. I looked at the possible-engine again, hoping for insight, and asked, “Is everything that’s supposed to be there in there?”
What’s the next step, apart from paying a visit to my friendly neighbourhood bank? Emptying the van! What does it have in it? Probably enough clothing for me to go away for a weekend in the winter. Also 6 pairs of cross-country skis, 7 sets of ski poles, an assortment of waxes, a tool kit, work boots, hard hat, at least two safety vests, some binders, a roadside emergency kit, a bunch of CD’s, and a bunch of random knick-knacks that have migrated into the van since sometime in the summer, when I last cleaned it. And probably a few cups of dirt, collecting for the same amount of time.
4 – vampiric nurses suck me dry using a giant needle. Despite the fact that my blood goes on to save someone in need, Istill feel nauseous, but get a cookie in payment and feel moderately better. If no cookie is provided, find nearest cookie vendor and acquire cookie. A big one.
4:45ish… (or whenever I recover from the vampiric encounter with nurses and am able to drive) – visit the bank, get a certified cheque. Also get a void cheque for the insurance vampires, and email it to them.
5– take Gwynn and Sadie on a nice long walk. Hopefully see the ferret on a leash again, because that was entertaining yesterday. Hopefully avoid all dead animals and gross things. Probably bribe short-sister into coming with me, possibly with Chai Tea. Random note, did you know that the Russian word for Tea is Chai? Same for most Indian dialects.
6 (or 6:30 or 7… after 1.5 or 2 hours of walking) – start the process of emptying the van. Attempt to enlist family to help with this, so that it doesn’t take forever.
Saturday morning – vacuum out as much of the dirt in the van as possible. Bribery of other family members might be used in this as well.
Check through the van again to ensure that it doesn’t have any of my belongings in it.
Ensure I’ve gotten every grimy penny out of it that I can find (they go towards re-building my money-hoard), and hope I didn’t vacuum any up. Empty the vacuum, pawing through it to see if I can spot any pennies.
Load the all-season tires into the trunk.
GO PICK UP SHINY NEW STEED! Ride around in style (and white-knuckled terror of being in an accident within an hour of acquiring my new/gently-used destrier) before heading home to build a fence that will keep Gwynn from running loose in our neighbourhood at will, and will allow us to take down the garbage-bin-and-random-plywood temporary barricade I put up. Try Gnocci Recipe, eat many many gnocci. Blog about fence-building and gnocci making.
Happy April Fools Day! And no, this isn’t an April Fools story, so long as you realise that I didn’t buy a horse, I bought/am-buying a hatchback. And nurses are in no way connected with vampires… people in insurance probably are, but there isn’t any proof that waving crosses at them will prevent them from bleeding your bank account dry.