Falling Apart

I busted a mirror and got seven years’ bad luck, but my lawyer thinks he can get me five.

Steven Wright

Dearest Rachel –

Barely a day or so back from being overseas, and only having driven the car once or twice since returning, and this has to happen…

I have no idea what happened between my picking up pizza the evening we got back in town and when I left for the ‘office’ yesterday morning. All I know is that the rest of the side mirror was lying on the driveway in front of the car the next morning.

It doesn’t seem to be a case of malice, whether one of damaging property or attempted burglary. Either attack wouldn’t have been satisfied by ripping off the mirror; and the latter in particular would have involved smashing a window to get inside. Odds are, this was just a case of freak weather wrecking havoc on the vehicle, although I can barely imagine the thunderstorm getting strong enough to rip the thing off without doing that much more damage to the vehicle.

And you’d think that if a storm could do that, it would have happened sooner than all this. We’ve had this car for about fourteen years, and nothing like this has ever happened to it. Why now, of all times?

Given your penchant for anthropomorphizing such things, you might jokingly (or not) have claimed that somehow the car knows I’m looking to replace it, so it’s falling apart as a consequence. Why bother to hold oneself together when one is about to be sent to the knackers? It’s basically aware that its last trip to the dealership was for palliative care, and like a person in hospice who’s aware that they’re there, it’s just… letting go.

And I guess I’m just going to let it. I don’t have a specific vehicle in mind just yet – I’ve barely had time to think about it since getting back – but I’ve rather resolved that the fill-up I’d given it before leaving was to be its last. Considering how little I drive – between home and the folks’ or church – I’m not going to burn through the fuel in any great hurry, and by then, Dad may have gotten in touch with one of the guys at the dealership (yeah, he knows a couple of guys) to see if they can hook me up with something. Or, failing that, I may head out to another dealership to see if I can’t get myself my first new car of my life. Either way, if it happens before Saturday next, I’d hardly need to bother with another tank of gas, let alone any further maintenance beyond that.

***

Quick update on that last paragraph, honey; I just got a text from a fellow at the dealership; Dad has apparently set up an appointment for me to meet with him tomorrow afternoon to have a look at possibilities. When I asked him about it, he said that “Well, I thought Lonnie was efficient,” and I’m in no position to argue with that statement. Then again, if the man senses a sale, he’d better be.

The thing is, I’m still not nearly as sold on the Ford brand as Dad is; I’ve only fallen into it due to purchasing his used vehicles when he would regularly replace his (a necessary feature for a traveling sales rep, both because he would put on the miles quickly and that it was necessary to have a decent vehicle to bring his samples out of. It’s the automotive equivalent of wearing a reasonably new suit to each interview). Bear in mind that I understand how loyalty – not just to a brand, but a dealer – breeds loyalty in terms of treatment, from the latter, especially. Dad would empathize with that, given his profession. But considering the time lapse between one sale and another, what’s the sense in being loyal, considering that there are other alternatives out there (and I’ve gotten multiple recommendations for a couple of similar vehicles)?

Granted, said recommendations are from internet research, as compiled by various AI chatbots, but when several of them arrive at similar conclusions – and despite my innate cynicism, I don’t see where all of them could be sponsored to put in a word for other manufacturers – why shouldn’t I give these others a test-drive as well?

Still, for Dad’s sake, I’ll go to this appointment, and get started on my search in earnest before this thing completely falls apart. At least I’ll have some leverage, due to my lack of interest in what models they have to offer; maybe they can persuade me toward them, after all. But I rather doubt it.

Still, in any case, I’d ask you to keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m definitely going to need it.