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The worst days in my life seem to revolve around my cars. Seriously. Looking back, I have had bad days, but the worst ones have involved my car.

For example, my first BCD (bad car day) was the time I drove my '83 Plymouth Reliant to the store before school to drop off a movie, a pin slipped in the ignition, and I had to walk 3 miles to school. Later that night, I was out in the parking lot with my dad, trying to put in a new ignition and re-assemble the dashboard with a flashlight and all the wrong tools. I got my ignition fixed eventually, but somehow my dad wired the horn directly to the battery, so every time the key hit the ignition, the horn would go off.

Another prime example of a BCD was in the same car. I was on my way to school when my car hit a patch of black ice, swerved across oncoming traffic, did a one-eighty, and ended up in the ditch on the opposite side of the street, facing the opposite direction. . . but not until I had taken out 3 fence posts and a telephone pole. The result was that my car looked all wrong no matter what angle you took, and I ended up with a bungee cord stretched across the back seat to keep one door shut.

You would hope that with the selling of the Plymouth, I would find respite from my BCD's, but NO. Instead, I purchased an '88 Toyota Tercel. It is a cute little car, but looks are deceiving.

Strike one: I bought it, and later found out that there is a piece missing that causes my windshield squirter to not work. No big deal, I guess, but apparently she (Her name is 'tin can') was starting small.

My next truly Bad car day, was last December. I was attempting to pull into a parking lot, when I again slid on some ice. I missed two rocks, and a garbage can by virtue of carefully manipulated swerving, but I ran quite squarely over a parking block with a 6 inch piece of re-bar sticking out of it. I am here to tell you, re-bar and oil pans DO NOT MIX! I turned off the engine, and coasted to the end of the parking lot, leaving a 4 inch wide trail of oil to the end. My project here involved the removal of said oil pan, which I then pounded and reshaped. My neighbor was kind enough to weld the gaping hole shut, and I put the oil pan back on. (Good lord, what a round about way of getting an oil change.)

The BCD that made me feel the stupidest goes as follows: I got up late for school, got to school late, and left the lights on in my car. When I finally got back to my car, the battery was REALLY dead. No problem, right? I am on campus, there is bound to be someone with jumper cables. WRONG. So, I call my dad, who leaves work, and comes and jumps my car. Great, I can go pick up my pay check. I get to Walmart (yes I work at Walmart), and I realize that I can't turn my car off, because if I do, the battery will not be charged enough to restart. No problem. I am not going to be in the store very long. . . I will just leave it running in the parking lot. (you have to understand that I live in a small town, I wasn't exactly worried about someone stealing it or anything.) I went in and picked up my paycheck, and got back out to my car. . .which is when I realized that I had locked my car doors, and my keys were in the ignition, and the car was running, and that my only set of spares was in Florence, which is a good 30 miles from Walmart. (long story short, I got a ride, got my keys. . .life went on).

Having such a history with Bad car days you would think I would be prepared for them.

It just goes to show that today is no exception. Today, after dressing like a clown for five hours, being beaten up by two roudy kids for another 4, and having a fight with my mother. . . all I really wanted to do was get away from things for a while. I called some friends to verify that they were watching a movie, and headed out the door in their direction. It took me an hour to drive 5 miles.

First, I got pulled over for going 80 in a 65 (which is technically 55 at night). I got a ticket. *grr* I finally got going again, but then I ran out of gas. Fortunately, the cop who had pulled me over caught up with me, and hauled me to the gas station to get some gas, and then back to my car so I could go and top off my tank. I thanked him profusely, still partially bitter about the ticket, and drove to the gas station where my oil light blinked on.


I came home. I have proved at least two points for myself tonight. First, Bad car days can strike when you least suspect, And second, Road rage is definitely increased immediately following any situation involving a speed violation and a cop.

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