The Car that just wasn't meant to be

My car has always had...issues. I always think of it as an evil voodoo curse. The first day off the lot, the battery completely died; 5-6 months later is when the curse took on its first incarnation: repairs. Apparently the dealer who sold it to me did such a good job of steam cleaning my engine that oil leaks where completely impossoble to determine. After a ton of gasket replacing, a few tune ups, and a few other LARGE repairs, it stopped leaving spots on the driveway.
Then came the second, more costly, incarnation: accidents. Apparently the car's red color and size indicates to morons "BULLSEYE." 4 out of the 5 major incidents were caused by someone elses negligence. Negligecting to check mirrors, neglecting to notice that I hadn't moved at a stop sign, neglecting to hang up the cell and notice I hadn't moved, and...hmmm what am I forgetting...oh yea, neglecting to have a dead tree cut down after a hurricane before the next storm.

After reviewing my maintenence record spreadsheet, a trend appears...big things happen in December. This December it seems, to be no different.

On my way back from Tech tonight I had a little "trouble." Why was I going home from Tech when we just won the ACC Championship? Laura's b-day party that had promises of punch and pie (and a crazy good time), that's why. So I make my leave and notice something that I've run into in the past: the Prelude having difficulties getting up steep inclines (the car used to be a crazy hill climber...just ask Mtn Lake Rd). This time around it was getting to be a bit more appparent.

The symptoms? First, it gradually slowed down going up hills. Shifting to a lower gear didn't help at all. Second, after a while of going uphill, it started feeling like the car stutters/lurches; like someone is tapping the break pretty hard and pretty quick. But before tonight, it was only going up the big mountainn before the Blacksburg exit off of 81. This time it was any hill. If I kept my speed above 82mph, it wouldn't have a problem. If it dropped below, it would gradually have more difficulty getting back up to this speed and hills just compounded the problem.

Finally, after following a slow ass truck onto I66, it started happening. The thing just couldn't go faster than 65. Then 55. Then 45. At this point, my only motivation was to get it as far as possible to reduce the towing mileage...well, and not get myself run over by a semi. These two convictions came colliding at exit 24. Continuing on at 45mph was going to turn me and my tiny red prelude into one of those red lane divider reflectors. Once exited, the car couldn't accelerate to save its life, even off a dead stop. I dumped it at the nearest gas station.

Having dealt with the amount of problems this car had in its lifetime in my ownership, it was not all that difficult to put aside the ominous fact that I was stranded, I've faced worse. So I downshifted into my first priority (Laura's party [fabulous {Who needs more nested parantheses}]), called Mikey to pick me up (who I will forever be in debt to...much thanks dude), and told the tow truck guy that I was leaving to get fucked up so he can pick it up whenever he felt like it and the wad of cash in the sun visor was for him. We'll see how bad Fairfax Honda wants to fuck my ass with the repair bill come Monday.