My Poor Sweet Victor...

For those of you just tuning in, Victor is my sweet beloved silver VW Turbo Beetle Convertible. We met on a car lot in Cherry Hill, NJ and I had named him before I even drove him. Definitely love at first sight.... and when I did step inside, he immediately warmed me up with his heated seats.... couple that with his punchy turbo, convertibleness (a G mandate in vehicles) and his general cuteness and we were a perfect match.

Like all men, Victor cost me a bit more than I wanted to spend, but we went everywhere together. He kept me singing with his monsoon sound system on my weekly trips from le 'Boken to DC and back. While unhappy, he never complained about the fact that he went from a covered warm garage to a gated parking lot. He used to love driving down the shore, especially at night so we could gaze at the stars....

Right now, Victor is at a body shop... cold and alone. Sadly, we were in an accident yesterday and Victor is undriveable at the moment. While, we're both relatively ok, my knee is hurting pretty bad and I'm sore... and Victor is no longer an ambi-turner, we had to K turn to get him off the street. I'm pretty sure the cops wrote down that I was in bad mental shape because I kept rubbing Victor's wounds and apologizing.

I even drove with the slightly scary tow truck driver to take him to the body shop (who when he found out I was from NYC, made me recount my 9/11 story like it happened yesterday and asked me to comment on the fire/police radio situation), where they promised to take good care of him. I left his little scarf woobie in the cup holder and all his favorite Melissa mix CDs (we were listening to Rockin' Hair Bands when the accident happened, track 6, David Lee Roth's Just Like Livin' in Paradise--I was just at the "wooo" part). :-(

It was a sad, bad last day at my job.... but of course, I am able to realize that it just sucks... I'm not dead (we'll revisit that though after my dad gets the insurance bill) or hospitalized (again, let's see what Daddy says when the insurance bill comes in) and Victor can be mended (they can rebuild him).

On the bright side, my two closest buds at work, walked down to the accident and sat in the rain for an hour waiting with me for the tow truck. They brought me coffee and my gal, Laurel (who pays attention when I ramble) said, "It could be worse, you could be ugly."

Ain't it the truth.

Smooch,
G