The Blues

You Don’t Send Me Flowers

On April 1, 2011, in Barrow Pushing, Cars, Ranting, by Rosie

This attractive feature of our home is all that’s left from a 2009 motor vehicle from Gasp Motors.

That’s not entirely true, is it? I don’t think it’s possible for an entire car to shrivel like the wicked witch of the west and melt away to something the size of a rock from Planet Fecal.

Yet this is all that remains of a two year relash. A mound. Of stone-shaped, hardened ash, plopped in the corner of our carport.

After all we’ve been through together. The waxes and affectionate taps on the roof. The cautionary ways we stuck up for you when Pip and Pop threatened to dent your pride … um, I mean your paintwork. The number of nights we sheltered you from a storm, we left your interior light on so you wouldn’t be frightened. And what of the day we jacked you off, relieving you from a flaccid, floppy tyre?

When we left you tidbits of corn chips in the crevices of your upholstery, when we pulled up to the pump and gave you your liquid crack, intravenously. Pure alcohol, and bloody expensive, right into your cake hole.

Ungrateful bastard! And what of the washing and the rubbing! Oh, the rubbing, such elbow grease and vigour, just so we could bring you to … to … to a point where you … you … you … shone.

Remember that rubbing, won’t you, when you recall how you combusted into flames and got hooked onto another. Towed away when you were in your prime. Such a fickle, easily lead thing that you are!

And what of Gasp Motors? Your manufacturer? Your creators? Have they called to see how I’m doing in the wake of the fiery break up? Have they sent a hottie, sporty, stripper car for me to collapse into as I try to get over the breakdown of our thing?

But it wasn’t a thing! I’d been driving you (okay, HARD sometimes) for two long years and still you didn’t have the decency to make the long haul with us. You peaked too early, maybe? You burnt out and looked for greener asphalt to roll beneath your (now non-existent) chasssis. Something younger, more easy on your smooth-flowing gears.

Gasp Motors offered no couples’ therapy, no breakup guidance. They won’t touch the thing, as it’s way too hot for them to try and extinguish the feelings that are going on. Oh, they did offer to replace you, but for the price of a brand new vehicle, a little bit more expensive with no deal, dinner or one night stand. In otherwords, they don’t want to know us. We are the spinsters of the Burning Car Set and have had to find our own way to dance with another partner.

We won’t return to you, Gasp Motors. So if you’re reading this and about to offer spa packages, Gold Class tickets, back stage passes to Cyndi Lauper, Rolex watches or new car mats, don’t bother. We’re not easily appeased after a fire under your two-year old bonnet and your neglect to follow up.

Although, if an iPad 2 is on offer … ?

Just joking. (sort of)