Also, ‘Never, Under Duress or Any Other Circumstances Including But Not Limited to Laser Eye Beams of Death Are You to Divulge Any of the Information Found Here to My Mother. Please.‘
So about a month back, we made the decision to pull out the 1972 FrankenBeetle from Batangas from its then shop in Las Pinas to Kuya Nards’ shop in Buendia, Pasay. Towing a car, as I’ve heard, is a huge pain in the ass/wallet, but thankfully I got the services of Nino Ayroso and got the car from Point A to Point B without a hitch (and without blowing a fuse). I also got to save a lot since towing only cost me 2,000, a fraction of what the other towing services are extorting/charging.
So last Saturday, Remi, Mabie, and I were dipped in shit and rolled in breadcrumbs.
The plan was simple. We were to pick up the Volkswagen from Kuya Nards’ shop and drive it back to good old Quezon City. It’s simple enough, but if you’ve been following this series of posts, then you know that going from Point A to Point B is never simple. The simple enough plan turned into an unfortunate series of events that turned our Saturday into something Lemony Snicket may come up with.
Faint of heart, turn away now.
11:00 AM. Remi and I arrive at Kuya Nards’ shop and wait for Mabie.
11:30 AM. Mabie arrives, and we were off to the nearest gas station for gas.
11.50 AM. As we were pulling out of the gas station, a cab stops in front of us and thus I step on the clutch and brake. As the cab drove off, I release the clutch too soon and we stall. The car refuses to start.
12.00 PM. Helpful kuyas pushed us back into the gas station. I texted Kuya Nards and he told me to wait for the electrician.
12.10 PM. The electrician arrives and adjusted the contacts on the battery. The car started up fine.
12.30 PM. We were driving northbound along Buendia. I drove like an old lady. I popped the clutch a LOT. Seriously, if the car could scream for a better driver, it would have. (In my defense, I was driving as carefully as I could. Among the three of us, I’m the most inexperienced behind the wheel plus two of the most important people in the world for me were in the car.)
12.45 PM. Do you know the Buendia-SLEX intersection? I stalled there more times than I can count. I was getting frustrated and thus I asked Mabie to switch with me. (Quoth Mabie, “At this rate, we’ll get there by five.” Famous last words.)
12.50 PM. We were stalled in the middle of the intersection. The car was having trouble starting by this time. A traffic enforcer strolled over to us to ask what the problem was. The car started. Then I noticed the handbrake. It was up. (This Tanga Moment was brought to you by none other than Rio.)
1.15 PM. We were golden again. Mabie was behind the wheel, we were starting to hate the numerous intersections of Gil Puyat Avenue, and it seemed like it was getting harder and harder to revive the car after dying on us. I asked Mabie to pull over just after the gate of Dasmarinas Village and I tried to contact Kuya Nards again. All of his mechanics are out, and we decided to wing it anyway.
1.35 PM. We were cruising on EDSA. No hiccups, no stalls. Just cruising on EDSA.
2.00 PM. We took a right into White Plains and we were still moving when the car died. I couldn’t think of a reason why a car would do this save for spite.
2.20 PM. Stalled just before the stoplight at White Plains. Trying to start the car. An enforcer walks toward us and asks us what the problem was. The good enforcers volunteer to push the car to the safety of the curb.
3.00 PM. The mechanics aren’t back yet and the car was simply refusing to start. We kept trying anyway. We tried many, many times until it finally did fire up. I took the driver’s seat (Me: Are you sure guys? Both answer in the affirmative.) I successfully take the U-turn, but again popped the clutch when the light changed to green.
3.30 PM. The enforcers again push the car to the safety of a curb, this time on the shoulder right near the Latter Day Saints’ church. Still no mechanics. The car was refusing to start. Kuya Nards suggested that I hit the battery contacts myself. I do as instructed, but it was no dice. (Note: It started to drizzle and we all flashbacked to September 7, 2009, also known as Muntik Na Tayong Mamatay Day. We laughed at the absurdity of it all. Did the universe feel that our friendship needed to be reaffirmed?)
4.00 PM. MMDA tow truck pulls up right beside us.
5.00 PM. We were back at Buendia, having talked the tow people to get us back. (See Mabie’s Famous Last Words. We got there by 5 all right. We just didn’t get to the right Point B.)
5.30 PM. We were on the LRT, heading for Roosevelt. At this point, I had exactly 30 pesos in my pocket, having paid the tow people all the money I had left.
6.00 PM. Roosevelt station, LRT. We get off the train and take a cab back to the condo. Traffic was heavy, but workable.
6.30 PM. I noticed that the cab driver was popping the clutch. It was a No-Judgment Day, and seriously, I have fallen off the driving high horse and had been trampled underfoot by that time so I didn’t say anything. There were no problems, except that the cab driver was having trouble with dealing with Heavy Traffic + Incline + Gitgitan. There was a loud BAG! and a sudden jerk. Remi, who was riding shotgun, turned and said what everybody was thinking, “Did we just hit somebody?” Yes, yes in fact we did and the other guy’s getting out of his car right now.
6.35 PM. The cab driver was young, and he seemed like a sensible person. But at that moment, he panicked. We hastily paid him the fare and got out. The cabbie drove off and I caught sight of his bumper. It had a nasty gash.
It was 7 o’clock when we finally got to the condo and collapsed on the couch. At 1 AM, the day was officially over and we decided it was safe to leave the house. Remi and I brought Mabie home. On the drive back, a Volkswagen Beetle overtook us on EDSA. I laughed. Yes, Universe, I got the point. The Universe drove the point home with a semi-totalled Fortuner. Glass was strewn all over the street, and the Fortuner’s passenger side was crumpled in where it had hit a 16-wheeler.
At the end of the LONG day, it felt like I was dropkicked in the face. I was tired, broke, and my back was killing me, but I felt lucky. So incredibly lucky. Why? We didn’t stall on EDSA, we didn’t get hit by any ten ton trucks or buses, we received help, and while technically we did get in a car accident, no one was hurt. We got home in one piece, we didn’t have a meltdown, and we celebrated our small victories with burgers, because fuck you bad day. There’s nothing like transfat to improve one’s mood.
Also, at the end of the long day, I had two of my most favorite people beside me. They didn’t suggest that I send my car to the scrap heap and they rode in a vehicle while it was being towed for me. For that, I consider myself to be extremely lucky.
Bad Vibes Check – This is also known as a BV Check. This is similar to a stress check and should be done to avoid any sudden FOs (Friendship Overs). When the Universe is conspiring to make your life a living hell, it is important to periodically check on your Long-Day-Bus seatmates. Are you okay? Do you want coffee? Are we still friends? As soon as we get out of this curb, I’ll buy you anything you want.
Famous Last Words – In hindsight and in case magdilang anghel, it is important to specifically indicate both time and supposed destination. (From Mabie: yes. be specific. cos when i said i wanted to brush up on my parking, i did not mean for us to sit parked on various curbs and intersections for hours on end.)
No-Judgment Day – When among friends, it’s important to set days when no judging is to be done. This is to ensure that both sanities and friendships are left intact.
In my family, there was an instance when a cousin was renamed because he was sickly as a child. Maybe I need to rename the car (or have it exorcised for good measure).