Persephone

My Audi TT Roadster, it was kinda gay, but I loved it.  I thought aesthetically it was great, but what a piece of shit.  Never again I thought.  So I shelled out some money and got a car noted for reliability. 

This morning, I got up at 7:30.  Shit!  7:30!  The alarm was supposed to go off at 6:30 so I'd have enough time to shower and change and get down to the service department by 7:00.  Turns out, after six months, my new car was starting to make funny noises.  I was told it might be my CV joint.

Actually it started in December.  I was on my way to Falcon.  I was late.  Sunset traffic had screeched to a halt; it was a sobriety check point.  And here I was without even a drink to get the slightest buzz and thirty minutes late to meet my friends.  I went around the check point, going around the bottle neck and back on track to the restaurant, but all of a sudden, as I took a hard right, I heard a strange scraping sound from the passenger side.  I stopped the car and took a look under the wheel well.  No, nothing stuck there. 

As the weeks passed, the sound became more predictable and progressive--first only with hard right turns, then even with slow turns, then with braking.  Over the weekend, it happened even turning left, and I grounded myself.  No driving until I get this checked out.

It was just my luck.  It was bound to happen.  I end up getting a new car, and it ends up being a lemon.  Typical.

I made it to the service shop at 8:00.  Mario got into the passenger seat and told me to drive and do whatever it was I did to elicit the noise.  Predictably, it happened at the first right.  "Did you check under the wheel wells?"

"Yup."  Of course I did that.  It was the first thing I did when I heard the noise.  I'm not a fucking idiot.  What I hadn't done, however, was check under the passenger seat to find the old, dried, rock hard pomegranate that had been scraping the underside of the seat.  Turns out I am an idiot.

And now I have to tell friends that the repair I was so concerned about was diagnosed as a piece of fruit rolling around on the floor of my car.

Comments

[Dean]

But I thought you usually rolled around on the bed - not under the seat. Color my confused.