Today, for the fourth or fifth time or more in my life, I have been glamorously towed home. I've had driving license for about five years and I've been towed almost as many times. My original day of eleven to six pm, stretched into more than nine hour cold agony and starvation. I haven't eaten but one chocolate bar in the whole course of those hours and three fourth of a liter of energy drink.
Those who know me, know that I have a huge problem with cars. I love them, I love to drive them and cruise along the way, but they just hate me. The only thing I get back from them is nagging behind my back, and occasionally in front of me, or worse, under me. Mostly the reasons have been for the car, but this time, it was utterly my fault.
For a long time, it feels, the cars have been pleasingly abiding me and haven't caused any trouble. Last time was in the summer, when my boss had to fix my car to work again. The problem was in the battery, not in the charger. It would have been a lot more difficult to fix. Still, the joke was, that my boss had to come and safe me from the town nearby. Not that it would have been embarrassing, but it was the third time during a weeks time that he had to come and save me. And not that this would have been too embarrassing, the previous summer he had had to save me once or twice. And yet still I love my car.
Usually, the problems have been the battery. Once it was the coolant that dropped to my feet and my father had to tow me home. I mean, it literally dropped all the fluids from the heater, whatever, inside the car under my feet. Luckily, I didn't have my feet under there at that precise moment. Another time I drove the car into a stump and eventually the tire broke, but I know how to change a tire so I didn't need my father to help me there. But other cases it has been the battery's fault. Somewhere last winter my car lost all the current power during my drive to a dance lesson. It worked until I got to my destination, but after I stopped the car, it didn't give even one sound. I phoned my father to help. When the lesson was over, my father came and we gave the battery some power and it started to work. I needed some petrol, and went to a gas station and father went on ahead of me. I left from the station, and in a very short while, the car stopped again, on the overtaking lane, at the beginning of a motor way, in the middle of the bridge and right in a curve. Once again I had to phone my father to help me and he had to change the battery to the car, right then and there, on the bridge, under the careful watch of Posankka.
I've phoned my father to help me with the cars more times than I can remember. And yet, I still don't seem to learn my lesson. Something is clearly wrong. Father says that I'm just careless, 'huolimaton'. Yep, that's what I am, a reckless driver, who hasn't been caught by the police yet. Starting to wonder how come that is. Luckily, my family doesn't run out of cars that easily. We still have some cars in the yard, making it look awful, but kind of helps when you 'ryssit' one or two of them.
This time it wasn't the battery. Today, when I had a low battery on a cellphone, today when I knew my brother needed my father's assistance, today when I hadn't eaten properly to have enough sense in my head, today when I skipped some lessons and received even more free time between classes to lose my mind, today of all days, I had to drive into a hole in the ground and dropped this bloody thingy what ever bloody cylinder it is that has bloody oil inside of it. Not did I only knock it out of its socket, but I broke the bloody thing that was holding it in its place. AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!! Only one option, and that is ... to call my father.
The day doesn't end there. I had to wait for my father about an hour. Not that I didn't deserve it after wrecking the car, again!! The waiting starts to be normal to me. But the thing is, as I have told you, the car has a very bad battery. Therefore I can't keep myself warm by the car, but have to just try and cope. The other thing is that I have a very bad blood circulation in my hands and feet. And the thing is that the gloves don't warm my hands, even though they are leather, and the fake leather spike heeled shoes that I had on with only one pair of socks, doesn't really warm you at this time of year in my surroundings. Nothing else was the matter, just the bloodless toes.
Finally, after the wait, my father came, and he checked the place and what had happened and how badly it had happened and that all the pieces were with us. Then we had to push the car around and tie it to the other car to have it towed home. The line looked very short and especially in the down hills as the cars tend to roll freely when you have no gear on, my car really liked to make a pass on my father's car. Then I had to brake down and then the line would tuck and I would feel awfully uncomfortable. Finally, we got to the Shell where we had to turn to get home, and the bloody line got caught under my tire and the line snatched. Luckily, I had enough speed to roll the car off the road to the Shell. There, we had to retie the cars, with even more shorter line than before. We had uphill coming and my father even stopped to give a lift to our neighbor. On our last road around the stables, we stopped to let the neighbor go and continue our long journey home. But alas!! The hook that was holding the line to my car twisted badly and gave in and the cars were yet once again separated. At this precise moment, my father started to think leaving me stranded there, in the middle of the road. (Joking of course, neighbor joking that we shouldn't have given him a lift...)In addition there's another car coming towards us and we are blocking the way and the tie doesn't open. My luck, what a day. Finally, we get the car tied up, again, and we finally get to home. My car is almost in the middle of a thorny push and I have to climb out of there, but at least I'm home.
This all has been a very dull, very normal and very irritating event that yet again occurs in my life. The biggest problem is not that I have to call my father when ever the car is making a strange noise or that it breaks down in the middle of nowhere, but that during these events, which usually occur in the winter time, I am utterly and completely frozen when I finally get home. As once more, this evening. The one thing in my mind during the drive home, was the idea of placing my freezing toes straight against the battery in my room and staying there until I could feel something again. Finally, when I got my shoes off, I marched straight to my room, took all the socks off and placed my frozen, numb, bloodless toes against the battery. The worst part isn't that they were all white and numb, but that my nails were shining light violet, which seemed to my eyes close enough to black as my mood. For about half an hour and finally I could feel my toes again. It took only a battery with too much heat, woolen socks and two heated corn packages, and time. Yet once more I can feel my toes and keep them under three pairs of woolen socks.
I have a very big blessing of having a father who helps me whenever I'm in trouble and comes to my aid. I know it gives him trouble, but he doesn't show it to me and doesn't even speak about it. Many times I've asked him whether he still trusts to give me a car to drive and he replies with no doubt in his voice that of course he does. Also a big bonus is that he can fix the cars, or if he can't he finds a way to fix them, or buys a new one. I could write a book about my toils with cars and their annoying habits. Of course I'm not to blame, I'm just the driver, who was mistakenly given a license to drive. But for now, I'm home and hopefully I learned something today. If nothing else, the fact where that bloody hole lies.
