Following a disastrous Saturday garage sale that started with rain and ended with grand total earnings of $120 for three days of work, my boyfriend and I decided we would hop in the convertible and go have lunch on a patio in Atlanta. We hit 400 and were cruising along and enjoying the sunshine on our "day off". We stopped at a wonderful little Cuban restaurant in Alpharetta and ordered our food. Since we had parked so far away and there was an opening in front of the restaurant, Victor decided he would move the car closer. I walked outside with my hands full of grub when I noticed Victor standing by the car, halfway pulled into a parking space. Instantly I asked, "did you hit someone"??!! He giggled (sorta) and said "no the car quit". Me: "What do you mean"?!! He asked me to get behind the wheel and steer while he pushed. (keep in mind we were in a busy shopping center in FRONT of the restaurant). Apparently, Vipers are heavy, so some pompous Porsche driving douche bag volunteered to help. (you would have to be there). We sat down and ate a wonderful lunch assuming that the car would start back up as soon we were finished. We hopped in and she fired right up!! Yeah. All is well. We pull into a busy intersection and "oh god" comes out of Vic's mouth. We died (all three of us) right there in the middle of the intersection. AHHHHHHHHHH!
Somehow Vic gets her going and we head for the interstate, just as we pull onto the entrance ramp..."no way" she died again. This time we were forced to pull to the side of the road and sit for twenty minutes and wait..for god knows what. We were visited by the police, called by a tow company, I got sunburn and then we hopped back in and VRRROOOM. Off we go. One mile later "no way". Ugh. Another 20 mins on the side of the interstate. This process happened at least four more times until we dragged her into a BP and gave her gas (she had half a tank already) and sat some more. We bought lotto tickets and called all the family members in case we needed a ride. She started at the gas pump and somehow we limped her home. Now, I have almost no patience, so an angel must have been there with my sweet boyfriend and his temperamental car and temperamental girlfriend because I did not get upset the whole three hours we were going and stopping. Although now, I am not a big Dodge fan and would suggests to my sweetness that if your car only has 33,000 miles on it and it crashes on the side of the interstate like 6 times then you might want to make a better/different investment next go around. :)
You can see the devil car at the top of the page, she died in the turn lane into the BP. She is a real gem.