Trying again: WyrdPress refused to post this, so I saved it to Wyrd. Let’s copy, paste, and see if it will go online now…
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THIS is life????? Who freakin’ needs it???????
Honestly. By the time we got halfway through the day, I was ready to quit. Exit Stage Left. FLEEEEEEE!
Jayzus, what a dystopic world we’ve made for ourselves.
Appears the problem is that I just haven’t been keeping up with the technology…which evolves at the speed of a galloping coyote.
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Toyota repairman was here, charged with fixing whatever was making it impossible to…figure out how to use the car’s fukkin doors.
By the time he finished, he had spent several hours…and then he presented me with a bill for SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS.
No kidding: to get the damn doors and locks to work on the damn Venza’s damn passenger compartment.
Yep. You need a degree in nuclear engineering to make a car’s doors work these days.
That was only the most annoying of the day’s adventures. Others were similar, but not quite so high-pitched.
Welp, I’ll tellya one thing: I’ll never buy another Toyota again.
Yea verily, I may never buy another car again; at least not one manufactured after about 1967.
If we could just PUHLEEEZE have decent public transportation, I would never buy any car again.
Seriously: when my mother and I lived in San Francisco — late 1950s — it really was NOT necessary to own a car. We did have one, because not to own a Ford have been an offense to my father’s manliness. But while he was off at sea (most of the time), she and I largely rode the public transit: busses, streetcars, and trolleys. We got where we needed to go within a highly reasonable time frame. We did not have to dodge lunatic fellow drivers. We did not have to fight homicidal traffic. We did not have to pay to park or to figure out where to park. And we did not need to get a degree in freakin’ ENGINEERING to make those things happen.
Anyhoo, the Toyota guy showed up to do some minor repairs. And it was SOOO complicated that I’m not even gonna be able to use the windows and doors on that car. What an involved rigaramole!!!!!!
Oh yes: before he left, he took a good half hour (or more) to give me LESSONS on how to operate the damn car’s doors and windows.
No kidding: you need a degree in engineering to open and close a modern Toyota’s windows!!!!!
Sumbiche.
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Can you imagine? SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS for minor puttering that did not even require me to drive the car to their garage.
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hmmmmmm…. Whaddaya bet I can’t get that fukkin car to start?
Let’s try it out…
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Whew! Well, yes: it took a minute of panic, but I finally DID get the damn engine to start up.
Yea, verily: it did allow itself to be persuaded to start. But since I didn’t have a pair of shoes on, I decided to opt the test drive.
Hm.
That was stupid, wasn’t it?
Okay…let’s go track down the damn shoes…
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Well-shod test drive.
Okay okay…I can’t bitch about the quality of the ride. Very good. Engine runs awesomely. Ride is smooth. And…but..i don’t wanna ride much of anywhere. And…and..for the luvva gawd, I spent SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS to get a car ride strangely reminiscent of my 1962 Ford Fairlane’s?
SERIOUSLY???????????????
I’ll tellya, folks: If I lived in San Francisco or New York, I would not own a car. This is fukkin ridiculous.