Wednesday, December 4, 2013

My baby's coming back!



Yes he's alive, breathing and grunting and spewing black smoke into your oh-so-precious atmosphere. I miss him to bits. He's always been my buddy when I'm down, offering me shelter and great music and a nice, quiet place to be in. Sorry for always hooning you when I'm in a bad mood, but you never fail to make me feel better.

Most people will never understand this strange bond I have with my van, but I'm very attached to him really. For one, is the amount of time, effort and money I have spent on him. Almost every single part of him, I had worked on before. I had spent a week driving without a dashboard, because I took it out to reupholster it. I had spent a month painstaking carpetting the rear, slowly finishing it part by part everyday after work, and having the entire van smelling so strongly of glue, I had to drive with the windows down to avoid knocking myself out. I had spent a week at home soldering and rewiring my speedometer, just to make it look more modern. I had spent a month at a workshop, slowly porting my engine head with a hand drill, while my engine was being rebuilt. Countless days and nights were spent with my friends just working on our cars, rewiring our sound systems, soundproofing our rides, widening our fenders, spraying our rims, working on our engines, keeping our cars clean, etc. There is a very big difference between how I feel about my old car and this van, simply because of the amount of effort that went into it. Because everyday I drive, I know that its a van that I had built (mostly) myself from ground up, how I transformed it into something I really liked. Everyday I was driving the fruit of my labour. When people commend my van, it just makes me swell with pride, a pride I wouldn't feel on a vehicle which I simply paid money for people to work on it.

He's always been there for me. If he isn't, its usually because I did something stupid like crashed him, or cut a wire I shouldn't have cut. He's the one who is following me everywhere I go for work, carrying my tools, my laptop, my stuff. He's the one who is always there with me when I just don't feel like meeting anybody. I can just buy my beer, head off to my quiet spot, and spend the night there with him, oblivious to the world. He's the one that is always an outlet for my emotions. I can take him out for a spin at night and feel much better after that. He's the one that gets more likes than me on Facebook, the one that people know me for, he's my pride and joy. He's the one I get drunk in, the one I can sleep in when I don't want to go home, the one I have great times in, the one I cry in, the one I have long talks in, the one I have a little lovemaking in sometimes.

He has his tantrums too, there are times he makes me so frustrated I could strangle him, if he had a neck. But strangely enough, he rarely acts up when I'm broke. But once I have my pay, everything breaks down. He can be annoying, but at least he chooses a good time to be annoying. I'm really beginning to miss that fella.

Come back soon buddy, let's smoke out the roads together again.

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