My parents have been gracious to allow me to borrow their spare car, but little did they know that that car is inherently evil...
While the '93 Honda Civic may appear to be a well-used, un-dented, well-behaved vehicle, to this manual driver, that car is nothing but an escapee from the abyss of a demonic car lot. I am learning again and again about my personal value of reliability due to the inconsistency of her April-fools engine. And do not be fooled, replacing a dead battery ensures nothing in terms of reliability, but only drains bank accounts for mere joyous laughs and frolicking fun. Sunny day or snowy day, no mercy is found in her cold, harsh "I'm going to make a fool of you" clutch changes. One time, two times, four times, thirteen times, "no mercy" comes her engine's noncompliance to rouse. With my jumper cables security blanket, the adventure is new with every morning, with every start, with every gear shift. Will her spite overcome me? Will alternative transportation be needed? Will she slowly feed on her battery in orneriness amongst the ice she refuses to budge from?
No known answers.
Oh, how I hate her...
but how the fatal sting lies in how she
hates me.
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