Car with a Mind of Its Own

My car is not happy.  I think she resents the move to Chicago, and she is punishing me for it.  True, no one even asked her what she wanted, but can’t she see how much I like it here?

My car (who was lovingly named Shirley by a friend) has recently been refusing to open certain doors.  I get to the car in the morning (or even at night sometimes) and the driver’s door won’t budge.  At some point, I give up and crawl through the passenger side which is not easy when your adorable coat comes down to your ankles.  I suppose you could blame the ridiculously cold temperatures, but I think Shirley’s just pissed about Chicago and wants revenge.

Basically, I am pretty sure Shirley is actually a moody teenage girl.  If Shirley could tell me how she felt, I imagine she would say something along these lines:

  • What do you mean I don’t get my own parking spot?  I don’t like driving around and around in circles while you search for a parking spot.  In Mississippi, I had my own spot at work AND at home!!!  Have the people of Chicago not heard of parking lots?
  • You left me alone on the street.  How could you?  Someone was attempting to parallel park and hit my bumper.   I blame you.
  • You really need to learn about parallel parking…it’s embarrassing when you run my ass into the other cars.  I’ll never make any friends.
  • We have to drive from Mississippi to Chicago in the snow?  This is awful.  Hang on, is this salt on the road?  Gross!  It’s getting all over me.  I need a car wash, ASAP!  Too cold for a car wash?  I have to drive around like this until the temperature comes up?  Unlike you, I take pride in my appearance.  The other cars will never let me hear the end this!
  • I know gas is expensive, but could you please fill up the tank every once in a while.  You’re making me feel cheap.
  • Hey, ready for a ride?  I haven’t seen you in a while.  What?  You’re taking the train?  Did I do something wrong?  You must be embarrassed to be seen with me….I thought we were friends.
  • It’s cold out here.  I get depressed when I’m cold.  I think I’ll make you climb through the passenger side before you can go home.  Hahaha, you got your leg caught on the steering wheel!  No, I’m sure no one saw that.  It’s not like this is the third largest city in the country or anything!!
  • Wow, that was a lot of honking.  What did you do?!?

*UPDATE*

I will never speak ill of my car again.  Here’s why:

Recently, I was meeting a friend to go see a play.  It was freezing, so of course Shirley was in a bit of a mood.  I got out and paid the parking meter.  When I tried to open the passenger door to place my ticket on the dash, the door wouldn’t open!  Shirley!  Why are you being so difficult.  I walked back around to the drivers side, and guess what I saw?  My iPhone was just lying in the street.  I couldn’t believe it.  I didn’t even hear it fall out of my pocket.  If the passenger door had opened, I would have lost my phone to downtown traffic.  It was as if the car wanted me to find my phone.  I rescued my phone from the city street and placed a gentle hand on Shirley’s hood.  “Thank you,” I whispered.

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