Ghost in the Machine

I have pretty much had it. I am convinced that my car is hexed. Yes, my beautiful car that I have taken so good care of, has cost me far more than I would care to admit this year. This morning, I had the last straw.

Fifteen minutes before I had to be at work this morning, I jumped into my car and started it. The car started, but something didn't sound quite right. The starter was still going -- while the engine was running. So I quickly shut off the engine, and the starter kept going. An feeling of eerieness came over me when I removed my key from the ignition, and the starter kept going.

Mass panic ensued. How could this thing be going, when I don't even have a key in it! I had to shut it off -- now -- and the only way I could think of accomplishing that was by disconnecting the battery.

So much for being on time for work this morning.

By the time I got back from the garage with a handful of wrenches, my battery had almost expired. A couple quick turns, the battery leads were disconnected, and my car fell silent.

I didn't manage to deal with my derelict until tonight. I called a tow truck, and had my car taken to the Toyota dealership, where I hope they have an old priest and a young priest who can perform an exorcism on my car.

I ended up being pretty useless at work today, my mind dwelling on my car, and what kind of grief it has put me through in 2005 alone. I have replaced the hood, some jackass backed into my car, the piston rings were replaced, the mother of all hailstorms pummeld my car's exterior, and now this. By the end of September, I would have sunk seven grand on a car that's worth no more than nine -- and that's this year alone. At what point do you draw the line and say: "I've bought a lemon; time to dump it and get something better?"

I'm thinking it's about time to upgrade before this car costs me any more grief. Some people will call it Murphy's Law, but my warranty expired last week. I have one year of payments left on that car before I can call it my own. I'm screwed.

So, as my car got escorted to the dealership, I decided I would have a look at what was for sale in their lot. I may end up dumping my car for a newer, more reliable, more environmentally-friendly model with less mileage. I don't even think I would have to borrow as much this time around.

I have been smelling the winds of change in recent months. Maybe this is a sign.

My Car Hates Me...

Or at least, somebody out there hates me.

I am very diligent about the welfare of my vehicle. I get it serviced regularly, I don't drive the piss out of it, I wash it regularly; it's my baby.

But this has been a record year for unnecessary maintenance of my vehicle. First, some asshead vandalized the hood of my car. The damage was so severe, that I had to replace the entire hood. Then some inconsiderate fool with a hidden hitch backed into my car, leaving a square hole in the front bumper. My car had been guzzling oil, and the mechanic told me I needed the piston rings replaced. That cost another $1400.

Then Friday, we had the mother of all hailstorms. In thirty years, I have never seen such a violent hailstorm. It hailed for thirty minutes, and the hail was the size of golf balls. It was a scary and thrilling experience, standing under the shelter of the house, watching the hailstones hit the ground, and then bounce four feet in the air. The noise was deafening.

I was afraid to have a look at my car by the time the storm subsided. My car looked like it had been parked in the middle of a driving range. There are dents everywhere -- on the hood, the roof, the trunk, the port fenders and doors. Two thirds of my car could not escape the wrath of the elements.

Luckily, the glass survived. There were no cracks or broken windows. The mirrors escaped unscathed. But that matters very little. I will have no choice but to make a claim on my insurance policy, and I only wonder what this is going to do to my insurance premiums.

I am seriously pissed off. No matter what I try to do to get ahead in this life, I'm always spinning my wheels. I should resort to riding the bus the rest of my life. It would be cheaper.

The Money Pit

This is a picture of my car the first day I bought it. I thought I got a great deal and that it would give me many trouble-free years. Well, that was before a couple fender-benders (that weren't necessarily my fault), acts of vandalism, and a hit-and-run. I've also replaced the tires and a few belts on the engine. I swear I'm sinking a thousand dollars per year into the welfare of my car, not including my monthly payments.

I love my car. I take care of it, and I hope that my due diligence will be rewarded when the time comes for me to sell it. But I am really getting sick of spending all this money to keep her road-worthy.

I took my car to the doctor today so I could have it serviced. My car has been guzzling oil on the highway, which has had me concerned for more than a year. I have asked the service technicians to have a look at it, but they overlooked it in the past. All they did was change the oil, check the fluids, and give me a new air filter if it was required.

This time I made it painfully clear that I wanted them to investigate the mystery of the disappearing oil. And check they did. By 8:20 in the morning, I received a call from the serviceman saying that the piston rings would likely need replacing, as there was all kinds of sludge built up, and the piston rings were no longer creating a good seal.

So I gave him the go-ahead to do the extra work. I was also very lucky, as the replacement of the piston rings were covered under my warranty -- and lucky for me; my warranty expires next month.

By the end of the day I had a car in tip-top shape. Had this happened after my warranty expired, the service would have cost me $1,300. Luckily, the maintenance service only cost me 100 bucks.

This is what you get when you buy a leaseback. I have been taking my car to this serviceman since I have owned the car, and he knows I take good care of it. He highly suspects the person who leased my car previously drove the piss out of it.

After owning my car for three years, I sincerely hope there are no more surprises under the hood.