Well, for those who have followed the scratched car story (and the first instance of my trouble with the driving side of the southern Californian lifestyle), here is the latest development of Tryphoon meets motor vehicles…
So, after I scratched the Flintmobile (nickname given by Sarah as it seems that driving in my car feels like being the car from the Flintstones), my love story with my little rocket went down by a notch… Nothing dramatic but enough to neglect it for a couple of months. The scratch hasn’t been fixed yet and cleaning her seems to have been an option…
The next step happened last week when my sun roof stop functioning, blocked in a semi open position, refusing to move in any direction… Less attention given to the car…
Then some warning light keep coming up on my dashboard, but not having the instruction manual for Flitnmobile, I had to finally ask around what this weird red logo meant. It appeared to be a minor issue… Total lack of coolant in the engine. With the help of Perigil (colleague at the Mouse), I bought new coolant, fed the monster and the light disappeared… This apeared to be a turning point where I decided it was time to give the love back to my car and decided I would book several appointments to get it fixed and I would find some time to wash it.
So I did… Last night… And I washed her with energy, all the energy required by a couple of months of dust and insects scattered around her body. This is when things went wrong again. Using a normal kitchen sponge, I thought it might help if I used the scratching side of it, not thinking about the paint or what could happen to it. She was dirty, I had to get rid of the dirt. And I scratch, and scratch, and rince, and scratch until she looks fine. This is only at that point that I realised that some of the zones I insisted so much seemed to look different… lighter in color… well, simply SCRATCHED!!!!
Stupid me!!! So, now the Flintmobile not only has a right wing totally scratched, but several balled patches on its front, top and left wing…
And as if this wouldn’t be enough already, today, after having had lunch with Cedric (one of Jean and Audrey’s friend who recently moved to LA with wife and baby as well), I had the joy of finding a sweet love letter attached to my windshield, signed from the Burbank Parking Enforcement Center… MY FIRST TICKET! BAST***S! I can’t remember seeing any sign, the curb wasn’t red, nothing! I AM INNOCENT (and pi***d off)
So there you go, here is the story of Tryphoon and his little car and the ton of problems around her!
