My car stalled again today. Twice.
Once (again) on the way to a job interview, luckily this time, it actually did that while i was getting out of the parking from Ikea. I already know the drill. Sit and wait for 10 miutes and then try to restart. thank god i miscalculated the time i’m suppose to be there so i had an extra 20 minutes to spare.
It stalled again, when i was stand in a traffic jam next to the boat intersection, on my way back.
I think my car doesn’t like to be called “old”. Or to feel Old… Or something. Ever since it got it’s “collector’s car” license plate, it’s behaving as if it has one foot in the grave, someone should tell it, that life doesn’t end when you’re 30, they only begin, and that , unlike what some of my friends think, you don’t die when you get to 30.
I think that after 30 years of age, though, i should name my car.
how does “Bugs” sounds like ?
It’s odd that i think of the name bugs, when i always refered to my car as a “she” when i talk in hebrew. maybe Bugsy ? nah. too 30’s Chichago. anyways. i’ll keep thinking of it, and until then it shall be known as oded’s hipushit.
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