My curse.

I had this car. I had it for fourteen years. When I bought it, it had 12,000 miles. Fourteen years later: 222,000. It still ran great, but I have a long commute to work. I got a little gun-shy and decided it was time for a new (used) car. I found one.

For the tidy sum of $3,000, I was now the proud owner of a 1998 VW Jetta Wolfsburg edition; sunroof, power windows, leather seats, low miles, the works. I loved this car (still do). It was the greatest thing ever... until the check cleared. Less than one week after purchase, the brakes suddenly felt a bit "spongy." When I sat at lights, the pedal would slowly drop to the floor until the car started rolling forward. Not good. Keep in mind, this is a private transaction purchase. Bought the car out of someone's front yard. No legal recourse. So I brought the car to the shop, and $1,400 later, I had me a new set of brakes. OK, I can live with that.

Two days after getting the car out of the shop there was a new development, hesitant shifting (it's an automatic). It took a while to get into second gear, then struggled to drop back into first. Transmissions are a car owners worst nightmare. After the third opinion, I opted for a complete rebuild. FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS. Now, I am a man of limited means. The wife and I bit the bullet and took out a line of credit to pay for all this. We had already taken out a loan to buy the car, this was gonna hurt.

THE DAY AFTER I got the car back from the transmission place, there was a big snowstorm that tracked up the Eastern US seaboard. Being the dedicated individual that I am, I showed up early for work (expecting that others may not show up due to the weather). An hour into my shift, someone from another area brings a guy through the building looking for "whoever owns the black car." Uh-oh. The individual driving the plow in the parking lot apparently couldn't make out my black car against the stark white snow bank. So he did everything he could to include my car one of his many big scoops. Broken driver's side window, mirror broken off and a totalled driver door. I took the stance of "it's not driveable," had the car towed and picked up a rental car at the plow companies expense.

Man, the rental car was nice: 2007 Dodge Charger. Balls compared to the little VW. Even ran OK in the snow. Rear wheel drive, but traction control made it smooth. Had it for a week. Finally the day came when I would get back the VW; new door and all. Picked it up and returned the rental. Low and behold, the customer service asshole discovered a small scratch on the rear fender. "You'll be hearing from our claims rep" he said. Fuck off. I have yet to return their calls. I'll probably get a summons before long.

I had a couple of good weeks with the Vee Dub, until the rain came. I'm driving home from work, a light mist in the air. My wipers were set for intermittent and all was good with the world. Then the wipers stopped. I flipped the switch up and down. I could hear a little motor whir, but no movement. Luckily it wasn't a downpour, or I would've been stuck. Got home and was able to re-attach the assembly to the motor. Real pain in the ass (not to mention the freezing cold temps. Ever try to use small hand tools with stiff fingers?? Sucks). Put it all back together after confirming it was working OK. Did one last check. No problem... except that when I shut them off, they stopped right in the middle of the windshield. You've gotta be fucking kidding. No time to fix it right then. I spent the next few days driving around with the wipers in my face... taunting me... saying "you got ripped off. This car is gonna kill you." I fixed 'em before the next rain.

Then the real cold weather settled in. It was 5 degrees Fahrenheit when I drove to work. I got in the parking lot, made to get out, pulled the door handle and... nothing. It was like the door was locked; no clicky, no openy. I try the passenger side... dead.

Now let me give you a little background about my self: I don't enjoy drawing attention. I certainly don't like drawing attention when I am in a position of weakness.

Directly across from me in the parking lot is a guy who works for me. Directly behind me, another guy who works for me. It would have been simple to open the window and wave over help. But I just couldn't. I started up my car and drove away. I parked a little ways down the street from my work and pondered my situation. Window? I'd fall and crack my head open. Sunroof? can you imagine if I got stuck halfway and accidentally released the brake with my feet? I'd be rolling down the street, helpless until I hit a tree or careened over a cliff? definitely out. Last resort? the passenger side back door. I slowly pulled the handle aannnndddd.... "click" it popped open. I slid the passenger seat forward, slid my seat back as far as it would go, and squeezed myself out. Freedom at last!! When I got outside after work, it was considerably warmer and the doors worked just fine. And continued to work just fine until the next snowfall.

I generally leave for work bright and early (4am). A new snow had fallen and I was leaving a bit earlier than usual to compensate. I opened the door, started the engine and took out my scraper/brush to clean off the windows. Job complete, I climbed inside the car to go to work. OK, that would have been too easy. Of course what REALLY happened was: the door had frozen while I was brushing off the car. Fuck you. No really, fuck you. I tried all of the doors. The driver door was the only one unlocked and it was frozen closed. Now let's us ponder this scene for a moment: car running, doors locked. It's 3:45am, my wife and kids are snuggly in bed inside while I am FREEZING MY ASS OFF outside. Oh yeah, the house keys are locked inside the car too.

I imagine banging on the glass of our bedroom window to wake up the Missus. She would not only call the cops, but kick my ass after they left. The only good news? the cell phone in my pocket. So I placed an early morning call and woke her up. I asked her to come to the front door and when she got there I would explain. She showed up, I got the spare car key and opened the passenger side door. Off to work.

I would love to sum this epic drama with a bit of sardonic wisdom. A great lesson I have learned as a result of this "life experience." But for now, I've got nothing. Fuck my car. Fuck my curse. Can't afford a different one, so I'm stuck.

The End.