and the car went pfffft....

so there i was, excited over our videoke party. i parked my car at red ribbon so corinne and i can buy our contribution to the party and asked nini and rosan to stay in the car. upon being told that there was a ten to fifteen minute waiting time, corinne and i went to mini-stop to buy the softdrinks. we loaded up the car with food and by 6:10 we were on our way to prons' house.

or at least that's what i thought. apparently, spike (my car, yes it has a name, and no, i'm not ashamed) had other ideas.

instead of turning out that beautiful engine hum like he usually does, all i got was this tik-tik-tik-tik.

breathe. relax. pump gas twice. try again.

tik-tik-tik-tik-tik.

curse. shout obscenities. hit steering wheel violently. try again.

tik-tik-tik-tik-tik.

pray. promise not to miss another mass till you die. pledge part of your salary to the parish christmas project. try again.

tik-tik-tik-tik-tik.

spike, you little pot of sh*t! what did i do to deserve this?

i lovingly took you to the casa every 5,000 kilometers since i bought you a year and a half ago. with the exception of the jetti gas my universal pangit ex loaded with you once, you've been thoughtfully filled up with caltex gasoline. and while you may be one big dust bunny right now, we've had our moments in the car wash. i barely allow anyone to sit behind the wheel because i didn't want you to think i didn't care for you.

we were good friends. we've been to subic, cabanatuan, and batangas together. i loved you in spite of the fact that someone said you looked like a red owner jeep or when they raised their eyebrows thinking i was cuckoo for having picked you over a toyota.

and spike, i loved you more than i did any of my exes. promise.

so why?

how do you now expect me to finish my christmas shopping?
how do you expect me to go home to my lola on christmas day and hang out in subic with my cousins after that?
did you forget that ugly commuting incident a while back?

i'm disappointed in you. all i wanted was three or four problem-free years. i understand that sometime after that, either you'd begin quitting on me or i on you.

but one and a half years?

tsk tsk.

i don't think so.