Turns out, the most challenging part of my internship so far has been getting myself there.
Cars are the worst. The absolute worst. In the event of an apocalypse, the mechanics will definitely rule the world, because they’re the only ones that understand what’s going on in these mechanical demons.
Case Study: a Timeline of Events that explains why Katie is so Jaded
- January 2016: My ’00 Subaru Outback turns 16 years old, and built-up teenage angst oozes from every working part under the hood.
- May 2016: Car appears to be working fine. In reality, it spent this whole month plotting revenge.
- June 5, 2016: I drive myself and my earthly possessions from Corpus Christi to Austin. I stop at a gas station and fuel up. Car refuses to turn back on. Small group of firemen push my car so I can clutch start it, which is the beauty of old, outdated manual transmissions. I make it to Austin.
- June 5 – June 8, 2016: Car still doesn’t turn on. I spend this time period parking solely on the top of hills, where I can roll down and gather enough momentum to clutch start the car without the help of firemen.
- June 9, 2016: Car is taken to mechanic. A hefty bill covers the replacement of two sensors, and car starts normally again.
- June 2016: Car plots it’s next revenge.
- July 2, 2016: PLOT TWIST: I put the car in reverse, and strangely enough, it moves forward. Car refuses to go backwards unless pushed.
- July 3, 2016: I live life without the ability to reverse. It’s weirdly possible.
- July 4, 2016: Car switches up the game by bringing back the ability to reverse, and instead taking away 1st and 2nd gear. I am forced to start the car in 3rd gear. Which is really bad and and stressful and hard.
- July 6, 2016: I take car to a transmission shop, aka the grim reapers for old cars. I start researching new cars, thinking that the Subaru is out for the count. The car is worth far less than a new transmission.
- July 7, 2016: Surprise! The car only needed a small new plastic part to regain the function of all 6 gear options. Car smirks slyly at me as we drive away. It’s obviously plotting it’s next scheme.
— to be continued —