AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH !

TA-BAR-NA-QUE !!!!!

Fiou, merci, je me sens mieux. Enfin, pas tant que ça, mais quand même.

Some things really, only happen to me !

For years my father thought he saved money by buying old cars and keeping them alive. Therefore I have a lot of scary car stories for you guys. But. A bit over a year ago, he realized that buying a newer car was maybe more expensive when you bought it, but way less expensive than continuously repairing a car that should be in car's heaven by now. So we got a 1992 mazda and a 1991 chevrolet, both in relatively good shape. Good enough, at least, not to be scared something's gonna crash as soon as you hit the gas pedal.

So. Last year I got my first car. Since I didn't have a lot of money, I got this 700$ Pontiac Sunbird, knowing there wasn't much to expect of it, but as long as it got me where I wanted to go, I didn't care. I'm not a guy, and my ego doesn't live through the car I drive. ;) Anyways. We knew there were some things to fix on that car, but what we didn't know was that the transmission was on the verge of dying. And the day it died, I was 50 km away from home, and I spent 45 minutes trying to park the fucking car. Went pretty crazy. Because I need to control things.

Now I have no car, I use my mother's. And tonight, a tire went flat on me while I was driving back home ! It took me a while to realize that's what it was, because, well, I'm not used to driving with only 3 tires, but eventually, after seeing how much the car was shaking, and noticing a nice burning rubber smell, I got out of the car and saw what used to be the fourth tire. Knowing that rolling on it for long wasn't a good idea, I thought of calling the emergency road service I'm suscribed to, but I didn't feel like waiting for them in the cold, alone at midnight. Plus I didn't even know the name of the street I was on... (I know it's an avenue, but I don't know its number. I think it's the 9th avenue. Not too sure. I do remember Peanut trying to get me to remember the damn name though - sorry :)) So I called my parents and woke them up. My father, who frankly didn't give a damn, told me to stop at the next gas station to get air. (and never mind that I'm not sure exactly how this works and that at midnight, no one is there to help me if I can't do it.) So I keep going. Stop at the gas station. No air thing there. What do I do now ? Drive all the way home.
Now just imagine. Can't drive over 20 km/h, the car is shaking and making this huge noise, I have my distress lights on, thereby adding an annoying click-click noise to this nice music.
A nice lady stopped to ask me if I needed help, she was all worried because driving with a dead tire is dangerous (which my father obviously doesn't give a damn about)...

So I got back home in this real nice state of mind, and as I got into the house, I mumbled something along the lines of "fucking car", and my father said in a frustrated tone "what's the matter now ?"
Because you see, it took me twice the usual time to get home, it was the worst car ride ever and no one cared to help me - but I shouldn't complain ! My father's now all frustrated because I'm mad ! What am I supposed to do, smile because it was the experience of a lifetime ? Damn it !
The thing is, you see, that we knew the tire lost its air. My father told me to check on it, but that was like, last week, and I thought he would have the decency to get the damn tire repaired since then ! Because what kind of man lets his wife and daughter drive a potentially dangerous car ? My father does.

I am madder than ever.

You know, next summer, I'm buying myself a car and I'm moving out of here - because I really can't stand it here anymore !!!!