Car Trouble...Part V

We drove about a mile up the road before hair guy pulled off to the side of the road. There, he put his foot on the brake and revved up the engine with the car in drive. Errrrrrrrrrkkkkkkkkkk! That's the sound my new tires made as he listened to the noises that the engine was making. "There ain't nothin' wrong with your transmission; it's the engine. Hear that? That sputtering? It's missing. When's the last time you had a tuneup?" he asked. "I've never had a tuneup," I replied. "All you need is some new spark plugs and wires, I'll clean out the fuel filter. It still could be the coil package (What's that?). I got this computer (he does) that will run all of the diagnostics and help narrow it down. It's gonna be a couple hours though, we got a lot of irons in the fire right now. You can wait in the office, but watch those stools, they lean a little...big girl like you might not be to comfortable." Relieved once again that it wasn't the transmission I let the comment about the "big girl" slide. I didn't want to piss this man off. I needed him to fix my car. Over the next few hours I watched and listened to the happenings in this place that was totally foreign to me. There were several men hanging around getting their vehicles worked on and they liked to talk. In fact, hair guy liked to talk too! I don't know how they got any work done, but between muffled guffaws and spits of chewing tobacco those vehicles being repaired were flying out of the place. Hair guy had walked into the office one time and told me how things were going. Noticing all of the pictures and trophies of the old cars I asked him if he had ever been up to the Cruise in that Mom and I had went to a few weeks ago. Of course, I told him all the details and especially that these cars cruise up and down the road, not just set in a parking lot with the hoods up. "I might have to check it out," he said. "Write down the information for me." A while later he came back in and told me that I was ready to go. My engine had in fact been missing. (Mom was right) He had installed new plugs and wires, cleaned the fuel throttle and replaced the air filter. He told me at first that it was going to be $275 but since I had tipped him off about the Cruise in up in Kentucky he would only charge me $250. (Worked for me.) As I was getting ready to leave we started chit chatting about old cars. "What kind of car do you have?" I asked. "I gotta '57 Chevy," he said. "You wanna see it?" "Sure!" "Follow me," he said. We walked back through the service area and through a door that I hadn't previously seen. In the room was car parts of all kinds and in the back corner, under a tarp, sat the Chevy. As he reached to pull off the cover he paused slightly, "I know what you're gonna say. What color is that? I don't want to offend you or anything but its got an unusual name." Somehow, I already knew what the color of that car was going to be. Yep, it was titty pink!

What Color Is That?

I had to take an unexpected short road trip this weekend to meet my sister halfway to drop my niece off so she could go back home after spending a few weeks with her Grandma. After the exchange Mom and I decided that we would take the long way back home and ended up in Somerset, Kentucky on the fourth Saturday of the month. If you live anywhere within a 200 mile radius of Somerset you know that's the night they have a Cruise-in. Every old car from a Model T to a '57 Chevy to a '65 Mustang all the way up to souped up Monte Carlos and imitation Gravediggers were not only on display but were cruising up and down Highway 27. Luckily, we had driven my super cool and hot-looking dark red mustang and before you knew it we were cruising with all of the other hot rods. If you've never had a Mustang then you probably didn't know that everybody, all the time, wants to see what your car can do. It kinda gets old when 16-year-old pimply faced boys in 4-cylinder Civics want to take on the MA Fat Woman in her sexy red car. Give it up! You will not beat me in a zero to 60 burst of speed and you will be eating my dust. There is a specific reason that I wanted to go to Somerset and that's because it has the most southern Gold Star Chili restaurant. If you're not from the Cincinnati area then you don't know what I'm referring to. If you're from there then you know that you'll do most anything to get your chili fix. Different parts of the country all have specific foods that the locals just can't live without, even when they move away. My addiction just so happens to be a 3-way spaghetti and a cheese coney, no onions and mustard, of course. Anyhow, after we had enjoyed our meal we decided that we would get an ice cream to help settle our stomachs. See, there's two thing about Cincinnati style chili: You always gets stains on your shirt from eating it and you usually have a small case of heartburn, or maybe a belch or two to let out. We found us an outside bench to eat our ice cream and continued to watch the cars go past, admiring the different models and varied colors. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a '55 or '56 model Chevy drove past. I didn't really know what color it was. I looked at Mom and said "What color is that?" "Titty pink!" she said. "What?" "It's titty pink," she said. "At least that's what we used to call it back in the '50s."