Over the past few weeks and months, my lovable, wonderful, reliable, magnificent car
(I never EVER speak poorly of my lovable, wonderful, reliable, magnificent car because it predates TeenTuna)
has been getting progressively louder, and dare I say embarassing to drive in public
(only embarrassing because other, less-enlightened people wouldn't be able to look (listen?) past the noise to see the wonderfulness)
I finally took it in to the shop this morning to get it fixed
(praying to the patron Saint of cheap car repairs all the way)
before a law enforcement officer with a fix-it-ticket forced my hand.
(please refer to less-enlightened people, above)
I dropped it off and explained that it was noisy
(which was an understatement)
and had progressed in decibel level from old lawnmower to cranky snow blower.
(coincidentally, both made by Toro!)
I explained that while I needed to get it fixed before it reached low-flying jumbo jet
(hey! wouldn't it be cool if cars had tray tables?)
it was old and didn't need anything fancy-pants.
(because my car is practically perfect in every way RIGHT NOW!)
He explained exhaust work was exhaust work
(it must be exhausting! BaDUMPbump!!)
and would cost the same no matter how old my car was.
(DON'T SAY "OLD" OUT LOUD!)
The phone rang a little later at work
And I was told Christmas came early
(I panicked.....for WHOM???)
and it was just a disconnected gasket and some broken bolts
and it would be ready just about immediately.
(Seriously? Good news from an automotive repair shop? Just doesn't happen. EVER)
and it was.
and I was set back a whopping $54.
Thank the lord. And the Patron Saint of Cars
(Guess that must be St. Otto.....right?)
(just think about it)