taxi driver

My car is at the mechanic’s. Nothing major. One of the error symbols on my dash is lighted up so I decide to have it looked at, and get the car serviced at the same time. And seeing as how my mechanic, his team of over 10 mechanics to be exact, work like snails, I just know my car will be stuck there for hours.

Mom’s taxi without a taxi? Just great 🙄 .

Well, what do you know? Good ol’ Mr Mechanic offers me this – a taxi, a real one. So sweet of him. How does he know I love antiques stinky old beat-up Toyotas? AND a stick shift too at that GRR!!

old taxi

I’m hopeless with stick shifts. I jump in the car. The alarm goes off that can be heard two neighborhoods away. Now where the heck is that remote button?

Grope. Panic. Frown. Dang. No button! Come on, who would want to steal this old bomb? Found. Shut off freakin’ alarm.

Splurt. Chortle. Cough. Swear.

I wonder how many times this thing is going to die on me! Sound of gears being dragged, kicking and screaming down the road!

Expensive cars steer clear of me. Neighborhood pets scuttle out of my way petrified. Petrified pets? Just great 🙄 .

Stinky back seat. Torn cushion. Shriek.

OMG, what’s that round thing hanging out, Mom? Oh that. They’re the speakers! Great music, huh? Right and the speakers are pink, eww!!

Splutter. Cough. Giggle. Bounce. Road bump, Mom. Bam. Sound of girls’ heads hitting the ceiling! Another road bump! Watch out! BAM! Mom! Oh, no-ooooo, more bumps!!!

***I’m posting this at 9:09pm today, September 9, 2009, aka 09.09.09. Have a good one 😉 !

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