It all started in the summer of 2009, when I bought my, shall we say "cute" '97 white Volkswagen Golf. I was tempted by it's, "cuteness" and lunged at the opportunity when I talked the seller out of a measly two bills ($200, for you less up to date). I was excited that I owned a vehicle, and couldn't care less that the gas light blinked on right as I drove out of the previous owner's drive. I putted (pun intended) over to the nearest gas station and shoved the nozzle into the tank. As I began to fill, the gas machine kept automatically turning off, like the tank was already full. Becoming a little concerned, I called the seller, and a man on the other line chuckled, "Oh, the gas light has been broken for ages. The tank should be full"
And the was just the beginning.
That very afternoon, the car stalled, died, and simply refused to start back up, let alone run again. After many failed attempts to restart my vehicle, she finally sputtered to life, and I drove the ol' girl home.
Thinking she needed rest (as well as fearing for my life and pride), I didn't touch Golfy again until later that week. A second rendezvous out on the town, led my poor sorry body into the middle of a major intersection, where again, my car died. I just sat in the car and cried.
After having a mechanic take a look under the hood, and take off with a stack of Benjamins in his back pocket, I packed all of my belongings into the car, and began the 12 hour voyage to Portland, OR where I would be attending college. Only the gods know how my little car made it all the way, for when we finally saw Portland on the horizon, my car's muffler fell off. Another mechanic, another neat sum, and my car was "good as golden"(maybe that cheap gold plated crap--don't tell my car I said that).
My car lasted for some time during those first months in puddletown, possibly due to the fact that I tried my very best (and all to Jamie's (my sister and roommate at the time) chagrin) to NEVER DRIVE, EVER. Fun fact: it lasted that first winter, although I barely did, as heater in the car didn't work, and I drove everyday to work and school.
It wasn't until the spring time was blossoming that my car decided to give out once more. Smoke billowed out of the engine, and I had my car towed (thanks to roadside assistance, I love you USAA!) to a mechanic, where it was discovered that I needed a whole new set of tubes in the dang thing.
It on it went, my car knowing the mechanic for what he was, an estranged family member that we frequently visited to check up and spent time with.
And now we come to this, the final straw in my adventures with my little Golf Boy:
I had recently spent a handsome amount making my car driveable to the cold chills of SLC, and it had made it there and back with next to no problems (the check engine light isn't a problem, right? Especially when it turns on and off, right?)
My less-than-trusty steed and I had driven my boyfriend and I to a local English pub to meet some friends. A fun time was had by all, and as the night grew late, the more constant were our yawns, and we decided to high-tail it home. Out of the goodness of our hearts, we had encouraged others to ride with us. We all trudged out of the warm, light into the cold night, and we looked longingly back at the yellow glow that was the bar. We located my parking space, I stuck my key in the lock, turned the key, opened the door, and my alarm when off.
and off
and off
and off
and off
I didn't even know I had an alarm.
and off
and off
and off
people were yelling from their cars, passerbys were laughing, openly, an old woman with a handkerchief on her head leaned out of an upstairs window and angrily informed us her baby was trying to sleep (exaggeration).
I tried everything I could think of to turn it off, keys turning frantically, locks pushed up and down, emergency lights flashing, trunk hatch unlatched.
My car has a feature that locks the engine when the alarm has been set off, so I couldn't, try as I may, start her.
Eventually the alarm was silenced, and I tried to back away slowly, locking the door as I left. The alarm sounded again
again
again
again
again
until finally it was silenced. We thought the battery may be exhausted from sounding the car so loudly, and tried to jump it, to no avail, that action just set the alarm off once more!
more!
more!
more!
Finally, my oh-so-trusty friends and I pushed the dumb thing to a safe locale, and left it there.
