Wednesday, November 15, 2006
The Beetle Is Back!
At 2pm today, after 2 days sans my car, I got a call from the garage, informing me she is ready to go.
A while ago, you see, I may have possibly hit a curb.
Actually, what might have happened, perhaps, was a purely hypothetical situation of someone who could have parked next to one of them low-brick fenced pits in which they plant trees near OfficeDepot.
Theoretically speaking, the driver might have gotten back in the car, and rather than reverse it, maybe decided to go forward.
And, perchance she (Ah, now it's a she, Ha? you shameless sexists!) felt some resistance.
Now, it could be possible that she made up her mind that she is going forward, and no American brick fence would tell her otherwise. And so, one might think she put her foot on the gas in a somewhat heavier manner.
And, who knows - at that point, it may have well been that the car could have climbed over the low fence and drove into the pit, taking the young tree by surprise
Remember - it's all a fictional game we are playing here, yes?
Just to humor you, maybe four construction workers and their boss just happened to be there, peacefully eating their lunch, looking with widening eyes and a dropped jaw at the unprecedented sight.
And perhaps, like, supposedly, after watching with awe the feline-like heroic attempts of the driver to play it cool (as in "Of course I meant to do that!"), they eventually recovered from the slight shock, wiped the crumbs off their mustaches and the smiles off their lips, approached the car and its driver, picked it up and threw it backwards, out of the pit and back into civilization.
No, of course none of that has happened - this was just an analogy, a fairytale, a fiction of the imagination.
Anyway, since that allegedly assumptive event, and totally regardless of it, the plastic shield thingy under my car's engine got loose. You know, that plastic screen that keeps the car's modesty and prevents you from peeping under her skirt.
"I think we should take it to the garage", I told The JohnnyB.
"Garage? why do we need to take it to the garage?", he wondered, "I can fix it in a second!".
Sounds familiar?...
The JohnnyB put a screw through the plastic shield, keeping the car's modesty intact, and that was the end of it.
Kinda.
2 weeks ago, after driving over one of those 3-feet bumpers (why do they make them so bloody high?), I noticed that this shield is, again, loose. I pushed it gently back in place, and tried to stay calm, awaiting The JohnnyB's return from India..
The day after The JohnnyB came back, I offered ValleyM a drive to where our watercolor exhibition was being taken down, for signing our agreement to have our paintings displayed at the AMD headquarters. (Yeah, I know - the wife of an Intel employee showing at AMD... interesting).
(Mind you, ValleyM got the Emerging Artist Award in our show - check out her painting, titled "Samantha's Cave").
As we were leaving her house, my car went Moroccan, with a startling Kkkkkkkkkkhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
We jumped out - looked under, and the shield looked, well, like that:
The picture doesn't even begin to portray the hideous sight that was revealed - it was devastatingly shattered, and I shattered to the thought that this could have happened on a highway, at 80 MPH (Ahm, I mean 65 MPH, of course...). I called The JohnnyB, and updated him.
"Ah, just put a wire around it", said he.
Yeah...
I think it was at that moment that ValleyM, who keeps accusing me of maligning poor The JohnnyB, started to think that perhaps I am not exaggerating as it may seem to those who have not witnessed the dangerous resourcefulness of the man.
We went to send off our paintings, continued to our house, grabbed The JohnnyB(*), and brought him to the car. He worked on her for some good 30 minutes, tying wires around her violated purity, while ValleyM is watching in astonishment.
Then we drove to his work(*) to pick up his spare car keys in order to fetch his car from the SF airport.(*) "Why this crooked trip?", you wonder.
Because when The JohnnyB was packing to leave India, he did not carry the heavy load of his car and house keys in his carry-on, but rather chose to deposit those redundant objects in his check-in baggage, which got lost when he missed his short connection in London.
"But why would you take the busiest highway with a car that's rickety?", you ask in puzzlement, again.Ah... ask The JohnnyB...
After a whole day of the car staring at me with her big blue eyes, begging for a proper treatment, we took her to the garage, where the very nice service consultant Sandy checked us in, and asked what's the problem.
The JohnnyB chose to remain quiet, thoroughly enjoying watching my tongue getting entangled with precise technical terms such as "the-thingy-under-her-front" and "that-plastic-whatsit-you-know".
Then the guy examined the tires, asking how often we rotate them.
"Every time we drive", beamed The JohnnyB with his famous smart alec grin.
Groaning in despair, Sandy turned to me, realizing that in addition to my eloquent proficiency in mechanics terminology, I am also the more mature person in the area - until he noticed I refer to her as a 'She'.
"It's a she?", he wondered, looking at me a bit weird.
"Of course it's a she", I replied him. (Like, Duh!?)
"I see... and what is her name?", he played the game, with a hint of that intonation you use when talking to a 3-year-old.
"Just look at her license plate", was The JohnnyB happy to assist.
"Aha... And, hmm, what is your name?", he asked me, now going for the voice you use when you talk to retards with an accent.
"Nava", I informed him (and here we went through the usual 5-minute argument routine of how to pronounce my name. No-it's-not-Naiva-it's-Nava-like-Lava-with-an-N-say-that-again-Nava).
"OK, at least it's not the same name", he sighed in relief.
"Of course not", protested The JohnnyB, "That would just be crazy..".
Yes, I saw the look they exchanged.
The look of manly men who may not finish every drip of whatsit you put in their beer glasses, but fully appreciate the blessing of living with women who have a healthy imagination and ascribe names and personalities to their cars.
So, we are now about $1175.91 short, as we also went for a new set of tires, and that plastic shield, apparently, is some expensive stuff.
Good thing that driving-into-the-tree-pit was only an imaginative what-if tale...
Labels: Indah, Wonders of The JohnnyB
# posted by Nava @ 2:30 PM 
Comments:
Heavens. You paid someone to remove four screws and then put them back in again through a new piece of plastic? Next time you decide to go all crazy like this, have BrainkyP fill you in how much a chin air dam costs from the junkyard first.
Or maybe check with JimmyB. I hear he's more skilled in the manly department, though I've never met him myself.
I'm so glad you took her to the doctor - I remember when we were out the other day she made some really anxious noises to you. However, she responded valiantly when you patted her dash and exhorted her to keep going, seeming to understand that with johnnyb in India it wasn't time to cause trouble. Who says cars don't have synpathetic personlities!!
BTW: Thanks for the SCVWS plug...I'm going into the ads in gratitude!! $21+ wow!!
# posted by 
: 11/15/2006 7:02 PM
This story sounds just like the one OJ Simpson is doing: "If I did it, here is how I did it"
# posted by : 11/16/2006 7:58 AM
TexieD, no, not "Again?".
The pit entry is the very same incident you wrote about in your affidavit to the INS...
(I mean, not that it ever happened, of course)
1) When the lower part of Nava's grill was loose, she didn't say I think we should take it to the garage", she said "There's something hanging on the front of my car." It was ornamentation that was supposed to be held on by the plastic shield, which was still in 1 piece, but some of of connectors had broken... not worth fixing so far
2) I didn't "pack" my car keys in my checked bag, I left them there. I took them out of my backpack, as I didn't need them with me for a week. I forgot to move them back. It was 2am, after a full day of work and dinner with a friend when I packed before heading to the airport, so GFY.
3) We didn't take the busiest road home. 101 isn't the busiest anyway, 880 is. I didn't see the sign for 380/280, so choices were driving around the airport again, or just taking 101S. Get over it (GOI).
4) Work is an excellent place to leave your spare keys - you can *always* get in, unlike the house, where if you've lost YOUR KEY CHAIN, WITH YOUR HOUSE KEYS, having a spare set means you're still up the creak without a mullet.
5) I never said naming your car after you was crazy. I said if you called your car by your name, then when you talked to your car, you'd be talking to yourself, which everyone knows is crazy.
:)
Gheeze - and they say women get PMSed...
Oh, The JohnnyB who seeks the truth at all cost, wouldn't you rather blog instead of wasting your precious time on a futile defense speech?
I laughed so hard I spit Pomegranate black tea juice all over my keyboard. Good thing I'm getting a new computer.
# posted by : 11/16/2006 7:31 PM
He is blogging. He's just blogging from your comment section. But at least he didn't include a shameless plug for his own website in his comments.
Duh &trade
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Or maybe check with JimmyB. I hear he's more skilled in the manly department, though I've never met him myself.
BTW: Thanks for the SCVWS plug...I'm going into the ads in gratitude!! $21+ wow!!
# posted by : 11/15/2006 7:02 PM
: 11/15/2006 7:02 PM # posted by : 11/16/2006 7:58 AM
: 11/16/2006 7:58 AM The pit entry is the very same incident you wrote about in your affidavit to the INS...
(I mean, not that it ever happened, of course)
:)
Oh, The JohnnyB who seeks the truth at all cost, wouldn't you rather blog instead of wasting your precious time on a futile defense speech?
# posted by : 11/16/2006 7:31 PM
: 11/16/2006 7:31 PM Duh &trade
