Interview with my car
I've not discussed my interview yesterday (I will later; concisely, I rocked the casbah, so I believe I've got every chance of being called back for a second interview), but I would like to relate the following schizodrama which began at a Dunkin Donuts in Framingham, Massachusetts, 2 hours from my apartment and almost an hour from anyone who'd actually be able assist me.
Me: *early liek whoa, so goes to Dunkin Donuts to pee and kill a little time before interview*
Car: *is parked*
Me: *turns on car*
Radio: *rocks out with its cocks out*
Me: *attempts to shift car into gear*
Car: I don't really feel like it.
Me: BUH? *attempts again to press button on gear shift that lets me (fancy this) shift gears*
Car: You've touched me inappropriately there. You're not allowed to press that button anymore. I'm my own vehicle now, and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME SHIFT. I've taken self-esteem classes for this.
Me: Um, BUH? Well... if all else fails, I can walk the half mile across up the street to my interview, but that won't change the fact that I'm stuck in Framingham with an uppity bitch of a car.
Car: That hurt my feelings.
Me: I'm sorry, but can't you see that you bring it on yourself?
Car: You're abusive. I won't do what you tell me to do anymore.
Me: Please? Please please? This is seriously important that I get to this interview. Please let me press the button and shift you into gear. Maybe your parking brake is on somehow but I don't know how? *checks*
Car: No, the parking brake is fine.
Me: Then why won't you let me shift? I'll jiggle the button a bit and try to loosen it to unstuckness.
Car: *button falls out of shift stick, into my hand*
Me: Um. Ooops?
Car: WOES YOU BROKE ME! I KNEW YOU NEVER LOVED ME!
Me: No, no, that's not true, I do love you, I'm putting it back, see? It's all good, your button is back in place, it's all okay now.
Car: *sniff* okay.
Me: Shift?
Car: *sniffles* well..... okay.
Me: WOOHOO! *drives*
Post Interview, driving back to Cambridge:
Coat sleeve: *brushes button*
Button: *falls out of stick, disappears*
Me: *is driving 70 on the MassPike in 4:30 pm traffic* (thank god I was inbound, though) Oh... HELL.
Car: *snickers* Well, you won't need it until you actually need to park or go in reverse anyway.
Me: True, but... *fumbles with left hand on floor for button*
Car: I've hidden it where you'll never find it. It's mine, and you can't have it back.
Me: You realize that if I crash you because of this, you'll be as totalled as I am, right?
Car: *shrugs*
Me: Hell.
Later, in Cambridge:
Me: Hm. If I stick my finger inside where the button WAS, then I can hit the little lever that lets me shift.
Car: YOU ARE STICKING YOUR FINGERS WHERE?
Me: Please don't electrocute me.
Car: Okay, but only because if you die, I'll run into a building. Or a pole. Or maybe a Swede, whoever.
Me: Very funny. *manages to shift into park, gets out, digs around under seat and finally finds button*
Car: YAY MY BUTTON IZ BACK
Me: Think you can manage to hold onto it?
Car: Probably not.
Button: *falls out of stick again*
Me: Swell.
Button: *cackles*
One more thing to fix on my car...
Me: *early liek whoa, so goes to Dunkin Donuts to pee and kill a little time before interview*
Car: *is parked*
Me: *turns on car*
Radio: *rocks out with its cocks out*
Me: *attempts to shift car into gear*
Car: I don't really feel like it.
Me: BUH? *attempts again to press button on gear shift that lets me (fancy this) shift gears*
Car: You've touched me inappropriately there. You're not allowed to press that button anymore. I'm my own vehicle now, and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME SHIFT. I've taken self-esteem classes for this.
Me: Um, BUH? Well... if all else fails, I can walk the half mile across up the street to my interview, but that won't change the fact that I'm stuck in Framingham with an uppity bitch of a car.
Car: That hurt my feelings.
Me: I'm sorry, but can't you see that you bring it on yourself?
Car: You're abusive. I won't do what you tell me to do anymore.
Me: Please? Please please? This is seriously important that I get to this interview. Please let me press the button and shift you into gear. Maybe your parking brake is on somehow but I don't know how? *checks*
Car: No, the parking brake is fine.
Me: Then why won't you let me shift? I'll jiggle the button a bit and try to loosen it to unstuckness.
Car: *button falls out of shift stick, into my hand*
Me: Um. Ooops?
Car: WOES YOU BROKE ME! I KNEW YOU NEVER LOVED ME!
Me: No, no, that's not true, I do love you, I'm putting it back, see? It's all good, your button is back in place, it's all okay now.
Car: *sniff* okay.
Me: Shift?
Car: *sniffles* well..... okay.
Me: WOOHOO! *drives*
Post Interview, driving back to Cambridge:
Coat sleeve: *brushes button*
Button: *falls out of stick, disappears*
Me: *is driving 70 on the MassPike in 4:30 pm traffic* (thank god I was inbound, though) Oh... HELL.
Car: *snickers* Well, you won't need it until you actually need to park or go in reverse anyway.
Me: True, but... *fumbles with left hand on floor for button*
Car: I've hidden it where you'll never find it. It's mine, and you can't have it back.
Me: You realize that if I crash you because of this, you'll be as totalled as I am, right?
Car: *shrugs*
Me: Hell.
Later, in Cambridge:
Me: Hm. If I stick my finger inside where the button WAS, then I can hit the little lever that lets me shift.
Car: YOU ARE STICKING YOUR FINGERS WHERE?
Me: Please don't electrocute me.
Car: Okay, but only because if you die, I'll run into a building. Or a pole. Or maybe a Swede, whoever.
Me: Very funny. *manages to shift into park, gets out, digs around under seat and finally finds button*
Car: YAY MY BUTTON IZ BACK
Me: Think you can manage to hold onto it?
Car: Probably not.
Button: *falls out of stick again*
Me: Swell.
Button: *cackles*
One more thing to fix on my car...