Saturday · 2 December 2001
ME: It�s the weekend; a good time to drive around! We can run errands! How I love to run errands.
HERSELF: Yes let�s do!
ME: I�ll get the car.
Halfway to another town
ME: Whoah. Something is...
FORD: I am old and tired. My steering is wobbly, my brakes mushy, and I don�t want to go on. I shall conk out here.
ME: We�re on a hill!
FORD: Meh.
HERSELF: Fucking fuck!
ME: Hold on, I can fix it.
He tries to fix it
ME: Plugs and points are kaput. It will need professional care.
FORD: I really don�t want to go on. I am quite depressed.
HERSELF: I hate you, you dumb car. I shall call the Small Town Mechanic, for he is reliable and inexpensive.
Later
SMALL TOWN MECHANIC: Come back in five hours.
HERSELF: Five hours in this small town!
ME: We shall make the best of it.
Five hours, three newspapers, two haircuts later
SMALL TOWN MECHANIC: Hello, I haven�t started fixing yet.
HERSELF: I am very cross.
ME: I am also cross but feeling rather good about this crisp new haircut, so let�s laugh and kvetch whilst he does his work.
HERSELF: A whole day wasted.
ME: Yes, haha!
SMALL TOWN MECHANIC: It is fixed. You may go.
They drive a mile or two
FORD: You really should have listened. I am now out of gas. Look, once again I have come to a complete stop at the side of the road.
HERSELF: Fucking fuck!
He waves a gas can in the air
KIND LADY IN RENAULT: (pulling over) Oh, my! I will drive you to the gas station, await your purchase and drive you back.
ME and HERSELF: Thank you infinitely!
Soon they are driving home, the day nearly over
FORD: Look, I�m sorry, but I�m going to have to reiterate my earlier point. There is now a rupture in my muffler. I shall henceforth be very, very loud.
ME: Fucking fuck!
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