I need a new car. Damnit. My grandfather finally came down with his mechanic friend and fixed the problem with my car- the spark plug blew, and the heating coil that goes around it was all stripped so they both had to be replaced. His friend did it as a favor, WINNING. So my cousin and I decide to go to walmart to get junk food (that I won’t be eating) for tomorrow. On our way to walmart, I notice that it is having trouble accelerating. Joy. Then my check engine light starts to blink; Fuck. It’s never blinked before. I turn down the music, no weird noises. I turned off the heat, still sounds good so I write it off. Then we stop at a red light and my entire car starts shaking like it is having a petite mal seizure (for those who did not take child growth and development classes, it’s like a bad, continuous twitch- not like a stereotypical seizure where people are thrashing. That, my friends, is called a grande mal seizure). YIPPEE. At that point, I start to freak out. If I was alone, I would keep driving, no problem but my cousin was in the car. I don’t care if I get hurt, but I will not be responsible for anyone’s safety so I backtrack, go back home, and get my grandfathers van. My car smells when I step out, and smells like gasoline when I put the air on. Transmission problem, says my aunt.
I paid $1850 for this car. I have had it less than a year, and only have been driving it for a couple of months because I only just got my license a few months ago. Since I have started driving it, I probably have put another four hundred dollars into getting it fixed/looked at. Too much money, and I have no more to pump into it. I want to go to the bank and 1). ask them if they will lower my interest rate on my credit card, and 2). inquire about my chances of getting a small car loan so I can get a car that won’t blow up in the first few months it’s being driven. >.<
I’m never going to be able to afford to leave this fucking state.