i (heart) my ghetto ride

CM's been away this week, off in the woods on his own for a while. Among my other activities in his absence (cleaning out the closet, winnowing the reserves of homebrew), I've been out cruising around in the Olds, house-hunting. This evening was gorgeous, especially after the week we've had here, and I probably should have enjoyed it with a friend on a patio somewhere but instead spent a couple hours after work (as I did yesterday) doing drive bys. All week I've been pretty worried about driving this thing around, feeling like it might literally fall apart at any moment, and every day I've pressed my luck just a bit. Seems it's actually gotten noticeably worse in these few days (or maybe I'm just that much more tuned into it now...), but with each new morning I've gotten past this by telling myself that I'm ready to just abandon the damn thing somewhere if it craps out on me. And off we go. So I was out tonight, driving around below empty, wheels rattling, brakes shot, groaning at every turn, disturbing the peace (CM's muffler job, which seemed as though it was gonna do the trick, has apparently come loose), but in spite of all that it's practically impossible not to love the Olds, its self-assured, all-maroon style and seriously comfy bench seat, the way it just floats over all those bumps in the road, how it corners like a wave in deep water, and starts up every time like it just wants to go, and go on... Makes the Volvo seem a little fussy by comparsion, but, hey, mangoes to cherries. Also kinda makes me wanna keep the Olds until it stops running. It'd be nice to find a house I felt that way about.