The battle continues

For lunch, R-zilla and I went to visit the little red Boxster. I needed a second opinion.

R-zilla said no. I was surprised. I was certain he would tell me to go for it. But the more I looked at the car the more I wondered why I'd trade my car for one twice its age. And I started to see the wear and tear.

R-zilla said I'd be bored with it by the end of the month. He's right. And the car just isn't me. It is an adult car. Something a grown up would drive. I'm not there yet. I work in a place full of Peter Pans. We hate the thought of growing up and getting real jobs, since you can't possibly enjoy working at a real job. And we all think we are fighting pirates or we pretend to be the pirates. Either way, we live in our own little fantasy world.

Besides, the boxster doesn't have seat heaters.

I didn't take Myrtle with me on my little secret rendezvous. She was out back getting all gussied up so that I would fall in love with her again. When I went to pick her up from the car wash area tonight, there were only two cars left.

You can't even imagine the guilt I feel that she spent the day next to the same kind of car that I was threatening to replace her with.

I'll call Bugformance in the morning and get her an appointment. How could I let a few little problems sully our relationship like this. How could I give up on her so easily? I hope she can find a way to trust me again.

If I were really going to leave her it would be for a Mini.

And if this is how I deal with my car, you can only imagine how fucked up my relationships with guys can get.

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