(Because I cannot blame the weather)
My car was clean... for about three hours!
Don't you just hate it when it rains just after you washed your car? It must be one of nature's favourite cruel jokes. Just after I finally washed my car after [cough] five months, it rains. It rains!
Just to be clear, I wouldn't have washed the car if it weren't for my dear mother's constant nagging. There is (possibly) nothing else I hate more to do than washing the car. I dust and sweep my bedroom and the immediate surrounding area, and wash the bathroom clean every weekend - there are few things more satisfying to do on a weekend than house-cleaning - but I just hate to wash the car. Don't ask why, I just do. And although I didn't actually wash the car myself this afternoon, paying RM9 to get some other people do it instead, the rain still burns!
The stereotype goes that guys dig and love cars. Safe to say, it doesn't apply to me. A car to me is just a mode of transportation. It is no way connected, directly or indirectly, to my ego or self-image. So my car (technically my mother's car, as I drive hers while my sister drives mine) is just a plain, factory-standard piece of automotive manufacture. Apart from the road tax and university parking stickers, there is no decoration and modification whatsoever. Just another car on the road.
Of course if money grows on trees, the roads are wide, smooth and clear; and petroleum flows like spring water, the Ford GT40 looks mighty sweet. But in this world, I am happy with a car that is cheap to run, have plenty of space, turns tightly, and preferrably clean and quiet.
Once I read in a friend's car magazine someone who spent RM30K modifying a (less than RM30K) Kancil. What was he thinking? The guy must be having some serious inadequacy issues.

No comments:
Post a Comment