No Right Turn

I have a 1995 jaguar vanden plas, She is black, sleek, gorgeous and can't make right turns on account of the steering rack is shot all to heck and back. If you do make a right turn it can not be sharp and you have to straighten the wheel immediately before the steering fluid has a chance to leak out completely.

I have found a way to get around town without having to make right hand turns, which I think for Blonde, is quite an extraordinary feet. My preferred gas stations are all on the left hand side of the road. My grocery stores, dry cleaner and drug store are all left hand turns with large spaces to circle to the left to get back on the road.

I even plan my weekend evenings out and what bars and restaurants to attend based on my ability to travel left way. Even the valets dowtown know my cars plight and work around the left for me. they also know a jackson will hit their palm if i don;t hear screeching from an empty steering pump.

Its almost like writing a book without the letter E. The book Gadsby ( not to be confused with the 'Great Gatsby') is a 50,000 word novel written by Ernest Vincent Wright, without once using the the letter 'E'.

I am calculating my mileage and I think I can drive for at least another 2,000 miles without turning right, because quite frankly that is how long it will take to find a replacement steering rack under $2 grand.

I could give up my car and buy a new one but quite frankly I love her. She rides like glass and no one would put up with her idiosyncrasies the way I do. We are both a bit high maintenance and have worked out our differences. The other day, just to be nice, she actually lighted the stereo and clock for me out of the blue.

She hasn't done that since last year.

And when I wash her, she actually allows me to play the CD player for a few days before going on the fritz.

She has 129,000 miles on her but she is a Tuesday car. A Tuesday car is the one that will always be true to you. If you look on the inside of the door and you will see the code that can be looked up on the web to see what day it was built. Never buy a Monday car, because the workers are hungover from the weekend, and never, never buy a car built on Friday, because the workers at the plant have already checked out mentally way before they punch the time sheet.

Since I am Blonde and go for style more than function, I have to be careful when picking out my cars but I am not.

My Triumph was definitely a Friday car and she was in love with my mechanic, she spent more time with him than me. The Range Rover was a bit dodgy being a Thursday car, it hated red lights and would kill its engine in disgust ay every one.

My Saab convertible is a Wendesday car. She is unhappy that fat Sophie uses her canvas top as a hammock and now refuses to go down without a bit of a shove. I don't drive her because Boo took her off to college to impress the other girls.

God just puts these cars somewhere with a sale sign in the window and I fall in love at first sight. It has been that way for all my cars and I always hold on to them longer than I should.

But what can I say.

The Blonde is a romantic at heart!!

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