hasta la vista, civic

Pretty much the only good thing I can say about this week is that it has sucked only slightly less  than last week. No one had to go the ER, at least. At least, no person had to go to the ER. Our trusty 1997 Honda Civic, on the other hand...


...this may well be the last time Stuart sits in the driver's seat. He filled it up with gas on the way to work yesterday and immediately upon leaving the gas station noticed a horrible sound coming from the engine. Figuring he could just drop it off on the way home, Stuart went on to work, but at the end of the day, Car Would Not Go. He called a tow truck, then called me, and after a little while I wrapped up my pitiful children (who are still sick, third week running) in blankets and went to pick him up at the service station. 

The call from the mechanic today was Not Good. He thinks he can fix the problem, but it will cost at least $900 and he's only 80% sure this fix will work. To be honest, we've kind of been waiting for an excuse like this to go car shopping. Financially, the timing of this kind of sucks is all. The Civic has been a good car and, up until now, very reliable, but it has a lot of problems: the back doors don't open from the outside, the windows complain about going down, there is hail damage all over the roof, there is no CD player or even a tape deck, the antennae broke off years ago in a snow storm, someone side-swiped the driver's door and left a huge dent a couple of summers ago in a hit-and-run, and last week the metal weather strip around the passenger's side door came loose and dragged on the ground until Stuart just ripped it off. Classy, no?

Stuart regrets having spent the 30 bucks filling up the gas tank.

Did I mention that yesterday was Stuart's birthday? Happy birthday, Stu. It's one you won't forget, that's for sure!




Comments

Jessi said…
Oh, that sucks. My mom has a truck with a full tank of $1.99 gas that she still hopes to one day fix. Why do cars always break as soon as you fill them up?
Anonymous said…
A year before your mother traded in the Escort we put four new tires on it to the tune of $400 or so. I tried to use that as an argument as to why we didn't need a new car, but the argument didn't wash. The dropping and rotting headliner (ugly duct tape couldn't even hold it) was the ultimate decision maker for she-who-must-be-obeyed.

Dad

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