I own 2 Jeep Cherokees.

I own 2 Jeep Cherokees. Don't ask me why.

For the sake of making a long story long, we'll call them "Old Faithful, Except for the Air Conditioning" (OFEFTAC) and "I thought Your Were a Good Buy, But Now I'm Not So Sure" (ITYWAGBBNINSS) for short.

I've been trying to sell OFEFTAC for a few months, because ITYWAGBBNINSS is newer and more luxurious, which is a ridiculous idea for a Jeep, but yeah, leather and all that. No takers. OFEFTAC runs great, is butch as hell, low miles, and she's an all around fucking great Jeep. But apparently, the economy, or this new thing call "Pre-Owned Certified" is keeping people from plunking down a big fat cashiers check with my name on it. Damn it.

Sit back and enjoy my multiple car owning tale of woe and feel free to share yours with the rest of the class.

Seeing as she's a little newer, a little smoother and has a big fat V8, we took ITYWAGBBNINSS up to SF a few weeks ago. It was great - the Grapevine was a piece of cake with that big fat momma under the hood. On the way home however, she suddenly decides to die on us. In front of our house. 10 feet short of the driveway. After running fine for 8 hours. Kaput. Nada. Hello?!

"Guess we'll have to WALK to the front door honey ... Hope you brought some water and a snack!"

At least we had OFEFTAC sitting there looking like The Jealous Wife in the driveway to get the Missus around while I was in FLA.

Upon my return from Orlando, actually within minutes of touchdown, because they don't serve food on airplanes anymore, I take OFEFTAC to an unnamed drive-thru fast food joint. She exacted her revenge for my neglect. PSSSTTTTFFFFTTT from under the hood. Sputter Sputter. Finally, she gets me and my combo-meal home, but no AC. Again. Fuck. (Backstory: We spent the last summer here on the Surface of the Sun without A/C because the estimate to fix it was four figures and I thought "It can't be that bad here without A/C." Wrong. I ended up getting it "fixed" in March for less than $200 - Great Deal - Wrong.)

Now I had 2 cars (apparently the American Household Average, yet it seems excessive to me) that required me to plunk down the damn MasterCard. See, no matter how cheap I may be, I will not fall into the White Trash Trap of letting a car just sit there rotting away in the driveway. Capital One LOVES me!

(I had a point here - what was it?)

Oh yeah ... so here's my point: Some of the funniest things in the whole world to me - swear to god, it cracks me up just to think about it - are the gestures and the noises people make when they go the mechanic. I stood there for 5 minutes trying to mimic OFEFTAC's bizarre steroidal fart noise in the drive thru much to the amusement my mechanic. The following day, I tried to explain to the same mechanic how ITYWAGBBNINSS choked and jerked before she gave up less than 10 feet from her destination. He asked me if I would repeat that again for Ronaldo (who whispered something in Spanish that I am sure translated to: "Make her do it again - that was really fucking funny!".) Ah, no. I think you heard me the first time - nice try. I'm an ass. Thank you. Here's the credit card.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, (which I doubt any of you will because most of you probably gave up on this post somewhere around "Upon my return from Orlando") is to tell me a funny story involving a mechanic (no Shev, it doesn't have to involve *actual repair work* on your vehicle!)

Anyone want to buy a Jeep? Or two?