So I'm driving to work this morning in the rusty, trusty MAZD (leave the "A" off for savings!). The odometer says 192,000 miles, and it makes me warm inside thinking that someday soon I'll steer this 1998 champagne-colored beauty over the 200K mark. (Of course, it also makes me feel warm inside 'cause the air conditioner in the MAZD is kaput.)
Next to me is a satchel full of new CDs. That's the drill, every day, to and from work -- keep popping new albums into the player until I find a good one. First up this morning: a promo copy of teeny-popper Kristinia DeBarge's Exposed album, featuring hit single Goodbye. Kristinia is the 19-year-old daughter of James DeBarge, the '80s king responsible for Who's Holding Donna Now. I'm not expecting greatness.
I figure I'll have Kristinia in the stereo for a few harmless minutes, then I'll put in something much more masculine, like, well, just about anything. I slide the disc into the player and... kragagkragazzzt! It makes a horrible grinding noise, a deathly gurgle -- which, to be honest, is probably preferable to anything on Exposed. But alas, something has gone mechanically wrong. I try to eject Kristinia...nothing. Eject! Eject! Eject! You've got to be kidding me. Pause. Take a big breath. EJECT! EJECT! EJECT!
Now I'm sweating profusely (damn you, air conditioning) and banging on the car stereo (damn you, MAZD!). I'm swerving all over the road, punching the dashboard, the console, the steering wheel. Why does God hate me so much?!
I'm also realizing that someone will have to fix this, and that someone will be pulling Kristinia DeBarge out of my CD player, and that someone will laugh at me and poke me with sticks. Why couldn't I have been listening to Dylan or Motley Crue? Hell, I'd take Helen Reddy at this point. But Kristinia DeBarge? That's like getting a porn tape stuck in your VCR -- or, um, so I heard from, like, this guy once.
The love I felt for the MAZD has been replaced with a steady, sweaty mantra: IneedanewcarIneedanewcarIneedanewcar. Who cares about 200,000 miles! I have a DeBarge problem.
I finally give up, wipe a tsumami of sweat off my brow and turn on the radio. But there's nothing but static. That's when I remember the radio antenna snapped off a few weeks ago. The MAZD is dead. Long live the MAZD.
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