In a previous post I bragged about my ability to avoid driving a PT Cruiser.
I guess I shouldn’t have said it out loud.
Our car is in the shop to get fixed after getting rear-ended by a fellow Creation Festival attendee. The other guy’s insurance is covering everything, including a rental car, and yesterday when the guy at Enterprise told me we would be driving a PT Cruiser I literally laughed in his face.
I asked if there was anything smaller but there wasn’t.
And now here I am, stuck with a PT Cruiser. A vanilla one, no less. As we were driving home in the PT Crapper, Sarah joked that it would be funny if we ended up loving the car. Turns out there’s no danger of that. On my way to work yesterday I passed someone else in a PT (Pretty Turd-y) Cruiser and instead of thinking, “There’s a tool” I thought “There’s another tool.”
This morning on the way to work I honked the horn to see what it sounds like and it continued to honk until I honked the horn again. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!! A guy working in his yard looked up at me and I thanked the PT Cruiser for making me look even more like a dick.*
Originally the body shop told me it would take about 15 days to fix our car. When we dropped it off on Monday, the lady said it would take about 3 days. So now I’m torn. Part of me wants it to take 15 days to make sure the job is done right and not rushed. But the other part of me wants it to take 3 days so I can escape the stigma of being the driver of a PT Cruiser.
I guess it could be worse. They could have given me a Hummer to drive around.
My name is Ed and I’m driving a PT Cruiser.
*I don’t usually talk like a coked-up frat guy, but it’s one of the side effects of driving a PT Cruiser.