Daily Archives: June 5, 2009

Crisis #3 this week: My Poor Truck

When  I turned the key in my ignition last night, my engine sounded like  one of those annoying motorcycles that tries to be loud.  I’ve been worried for weeks that my truck would either a) break down or b) get stolen before I could leave for Summer Tour 2009. So worried that I’ve been parking on streets based on my prediction of the  likelihood of a truck getting stolen there.  Worry is a yummy bone my mind loves to chew on when I’m not sleeping or actively engaged in something.  After losing my job and mourning my computer’s death this week, this seemed only appropriate.  Things happen in 3’s right?


My nice mechanic got me in right away this morning.  Poor truck felt a little violated being up in the air exposed like that.


Me: I don’t know what happened.  When I parked her the other night, she was fine.  Then last night, she was  all crazy like.

Nice Mechanic: Yeah, I could hear you com’n from a mile away.  Geez!

Five minutes later, Nice Mechanic came and got me

Nice Mechanic: You gotta come see this for yourself.  You’re not gonna believe this

(excited by this “unbelievable” thing, I ran after him…then came to my senses)

Me: What you just said terrifies me


Nice Mechanic: What’s missing in this picture?

Me: Um…..Give me a second. I never look under my own truck.

I usually love pop quizzes, but this one was no fun

 Me: (3 minutes later). Oh, that pipe looks weird.


Nice Mechanic: Weird? Try missing. 


Me: So where did it go?

Nice Mechanic: Where do you think it went? It was stolen. You see it’s holder just hanging down like that?


Me: Yes! I see it!

Nice Mechanic: And the way the pipe was cut clean like that?



Me: Uh, huh.

Nice Mechanic:  Someone crawled under your truck while it was parked and sawed the 3ft long converter off your truck. I mean, I’ve heard of this on ABC news before.  How crackheads are stealing these parts cuz they got platinum on the inside…

Me (to myself): Platinum?  Like my  fake wedding ring I got from my Craigslist husband (see Craigslist Game Party #4 for reference).

Nice Mechanic: …and selling them to scrap yards for like fifteen bucks. I’ve heard of this kinda thing happening, but I never seen it. You’re the first one I know of.

Me (to myself):  That’s kinda cool I’m the first at something, even though it’s fucked up.


Me:  So, how much does a 3ft converter pipe go for these days?

Fifteen minutes and two phone calls later, Nice Mechanic comes back.

Nice Mechanic: $1,300. 




Me (to pretend Crackhead in front of me): F%#k you, you f@%cking crackhead f%&k —(bleep), —-(bleep) (EDIT HERE)

Mechanic: This was the third thing that happened this week? Well, at least you’re set for awhile. 

Me: I like the way you think. 

More determined than ever, I am going to do everything I can to make this trip happen. My worst fear didn’t come true. My truck didn’t get stolen.  Only part of it.

 SUMMER TOUR, FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks again to my roommate who let me borrow her computer until I can afford a new one.