Monday, July 20, 2009
Bustication
I don't want to hear bitching about it being hot where you are. I just don't. Because unless your car almost explodes simply from sitting in the heat, you don't know what I'm dealing with.
Sure, sure, I always make the point that our trade-off is worth it here in Tejas -- that wearing flip flops and shorts while Christmas shopping is rather awesome, and highs in the 70s and 80s on Thanksgiving is neat-o. And I stand by that. Our A/C bills are insane-o in the summertime and stepping outside at 6 AM to let the dog out feels like walking into a blast furnace. And that you find yourself seriously considering figuring out a way to mow your lawn at night because it's still 104 with 90% humidity at 5:30 PM. But I can deal with all that. I rather enjoy it, actually, in a weird way.
But what pisses me off is when things like my car can't handle it. Look, car, you get to live in a warm climate. You don't have to deal with snow. Or salt. If you were in the north, you'd practically decompose underneath because of all the road salt. But no, we live here in Texas. And what do you do? Well, you sit in the heat at the airport for a few days... and then when I return and leave to head home and have the temerity to spritz my windsheild to clean the dirt/dust off that accumulates there when in an off-site parking lot, what happens? Yeah, that's right, the damn windshield makes a pop sound like I ran over an aluminum can. But instead of being an aluminum can it's my windshield springing a huge crack.
The fun doesn't end there, though. Each day, the crack grows. It's like a little game each day when I come out to the car after work. How far will it have grown and in which direction? Which pre-existing chip will it head towards?
The crack now exists from below my inspection sticker diagonally up to a chip in right about my line of sight, and then it forks off into two different directions. Neat-o! This will continue all summer, I would imagine, and eventually I'll be accused of a hit-and-run because it will look like a human has been smashed against my windshield. Which might happen as I get angrier.
Sure, sure, I always make the point that our trade-off is worth it here in Tejas -- that wearing flip flops and shorts while Christmas shopping is rather awesome, and highs in the 70s and 80s on Thanksgiving is neat-o. And I stand by that. Our A/C bills are insane-o in the summertime and stepping outside at 6 AM to let the dog out feels like walking into a blast furnace. And that you find yourself seriously considering figuring out a way to mow your lawn at night because it's still 104 with 90% humidity at 5:30 PM. But I can deal with all that. I rather enjoy it, actually, in a weird way.
But what pisses me off is when things like my car can't handle it. Look, car, you get to live in a warm climate. You don't have to deal with snow. Or salt. If you were in the north, you'd practically decompose underneath because of all the road salt. But no, we live here in Texas. And what do you do? Well, you sit in the heat at the airport for a few days... and then when I return and leave to head home and have the temerity to spritz my windsheild to clean the dirt/dust off that accumulates there when in an off-site parking lot, what happens? Yeah, that's right, the damn windshield makes a pop sound like I ran over an aluminum can. But instead of being an aluminum can it's my windshield springing a huge crack.
The fun doesn't end there, though. Each day, the crack grows. It's like a little game each day when I come out to the car after work. How far will it have grown and in which direction? Which pre-existing chip will it head towards?
The crack now exists from below my inspection sticker diagonally up to a chip in right about my line of sight, and then it forks off into two different directions. Neat-o! This will continue all summer, I would imagine, and eventually I'll be accused of a hit-and-run because it will look like a human has been smashed against my windshield. Which might happen as I get angrier.
Labels: car trouble, Houston
