Bruce is no more. He has gone to make his maker. He has ceased to be. Bruce’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibile. He’s an Ex-car.
We just passed the 100, 000 mile mark last week.
I got out of PT this morning, went to start the car, heard a weird metallic noise and it wouldn’t turn over. AAA came and towed us to the garage. Our mechanic called back about an hour or so later (after they gave me a ride home) with the news that it is not worth fixing. Something about a rod. We knew this day was coming, but thought it would be next year. Crap in a hat. Now we’re going to have to scramble to get a car. Harry has manditory overtime tomorrow, so this is going to be difficult.
I hate having to own a car. If we lived in an area where public transportation was decent, and it made sense, we would be carless. I got my license when I was 23. I’m the one who taught Harry to drive, so he was at least 21, though he might have also been 23. So yeah, we don’t like driving.
Never got to go camping with him. :(
Maybe I should inquire about this beauty.
PS – I have to admit the irony of this happening was at the Rehab Hospital has not escaped me. ;)