My Trusty Road Warrior

I love my car. It’s an 8-year old beat-up road warrior that has seen better days, and my friends who are familiar with it (and have the ignominy of riding in it) can attest to the fact. But I love it. It has served me extremely well, through the good times and especially the bad.

Through the years I kept it running well, even with my limited knowledge of engine mechanism and tight, tight budget.

It suffered a few minor accidents here and there, including one where I had to have an entire door knocked back into shape. But yet the old warhorse faithfully sputtered to life every morning to do its job.

Then one day, I had to work deep in the city, because my then employer wanted to unload a few hundred staff, and I couldn’t find another job in a less congested area. So since then I had to subject my creaking ride to the unrelenting traffic jams under intense weather conditions and long distance traveling.

Then one evening, during the fasting month, in a stop-and-go traffic, the car ahead of made an emergency stop. I slammed the brakes. Even though my tires were screeching and almost skidding, I knew I could stop in time before I hit the front car. I was right. My ride stopped a few inches short of the silver Waja.

Unfortunately, the car behind didn’t have such luck. He slammed head long into my rear. In fact, in retrospect, I doubt he even attempt to brake at all, with my car absorbing the entire force of impact, hurtling my car the crash into the front silver Waja.

It was a wreck, not a sight for weak of heart (the 2 cars, not the driver. However, I did consider suing for whiplash).

It took two months plus to repair my car. Plus a few return trips to fix the niggling problems. The mechanics didn’t do a good job, (which insurance claims workshop does, anyway?) and to this day, more and more inherent problems are surfacing and refuse to go away.

But I still love my ride. Since the accident, I may have slackened on taking care of it, but the engine still runs smoothly.

Lately, I’ve tempted to look to changing cars. But of course, it’s just a pipe dream, with my payslip and bank balance laughing at my face.

So tomorrow morning, I’ll fire up the engine again for another long trek into the city, coaxing my silver grey steed for one more day on the job. As we office lackeys always say, another day, another dollar…



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