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The Life and Death of a Camry
Jan. 2nd, 2007 09:54 pmMy car is in critical care.
I was driving with my sister, stopped at an intersection, when my lovely little car began its death throes. It stalled – I shut it off and tried to turn the engine again. The engine protested, as did the people waiting behind me. Finally, I had to start up my emergency lights, get out, and push while my sister steered. I had gotten about two feet when my feet began to slip.
I looked down and found that my car was bleeding to death. That is, it would have been, were transmission fluid blood. It was rather startling. I doubt I’d have been more startled had I looked down and found that actual blood and guts were spilling from the underside of my Camry.
Three helpful passer-by-ers, one intervening tow truck, and 45 minutes in the cold later, my car was on its way to the hospital (or Blackman’s Garage, my mechanic). So I am sans car, for the indefinite. Alas.
I was driving with my sister, stopped at an intersection, when my lovely little car began its death throes. It stalled – I shut it off and tried to turn the engine again. The engine protested, as did the people waiting behind me. Finally, I had to start up my emergency lights, get out, and push while my sister steered. I had gotten about two feet when my feet began to slip.
I looked down and found that my car was bleeding to death. That is, it would have been, were transmission fluid blood. It was rather startling. I doubt I’d have been more startled had I looked down and found that actual blood and guts were spilling from the underside of my Camry.
Three helpful passer-by-ers, one intervening tow truck, and 45 minutes in the cold later, my car was on its way to the hospital (or Blackman’s Garage, my mechanic). So I am sans car, for the indefinite. Alas.
