24 March 2010

Recall

After boxing last night, I stopped to fuel up my Toyota.  I had changed back into my street clothes (bluejeans, white t, cowboy boots) and thrown on a jacket to fend off the brisk evening air.  I went through the standard motions at the pump:  sliding my card, selecting "yes" for receipt, selecting the grade, tasting the gasoline, putting the nozzle between my legs and delicately but intimately penetrating my car's freshly uncorked gas-orifice-hole while emitting a faint moan...  You know, the typical things EVERYONE does when they fill their tank.
You should see me refill the radiator...
After topping off my car, I gently pulled out the still-dripping nozzle while sweetly whispering "I love you, baby" to my car, then climbed back behind the wheel and noted my mileage on the receipt.  Placing the receipt in a huge pile of its brethren (I'll update my MPG spreadsheet one day, I swear to Thor), I dropped into gear and got on the road.

Something was wrong.

At first I thought perhaps it was bad gasoline.  About fifteen years ago, the same purveyor had a large batch of bunk petroleum that caused fuel pump failures in almost every car that so much as drove past the place.  But the chain-store's reputation paid a heavy price from that incident, and they have had an overly paranoid quality control unit ever since.  So the only bad gas in my car was probably the result of my dinner (bangers & mash).  [Man, those obvious, low-hanging-fruit jokes are always the best.]

My next thought was that I needed to check Toyota's recall list once again to see if perhaps my make and model had been recently added.  I guess it could happen, however unlikely, that my accelerator would suddenly develop problems after so many years and untold thousands of miles of trouble-free operation.  It was possible, if not plausible.

The more I analyzed the "something is wrong" feeling, the more I began to realize that it WAS the accelerator.  It was immediately popping up when I raised my foot, no matter how quickly I pulled it away.  "Holy crap, my car has design flaws that have proven fatal in some instances.  It's late, I'm tired, and now I'm running the risk of becoming another statistic in a massive recall campaign."  My brain went from sleepy to panicked in a hurry as I contemplated my options.  "Man, it's almost like the accelerator is stuck to my boot!"

Then I tried to move my boot left and right across the gas pedal.  It would not budge.

Goddammit.

I stepped in gum.

...   ...   ...   ...


But maybe that's just the fix that Toyota needs for their accelerator issues:  A stick of Juicy Fruit on the soles of your kicks - problem solved.


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Help yourself to these images:




7 comments:

Something Happened Somewhere Turning said...

That last picture looks like it should have been in Battlebots.

(taps fingers)

I'm hesitant to make any other comments about this post, plus those other pictures just freaked me out.

Chelle said...

Good typewriter.

ZDub said...

Um, wow.

How did you...

Where did you...

So, how about the weather?

Pearl said...

No the last picture has me reminded of "Naked Lunch"...

Pearl

Pearl said...

Kreg, "Trapeze Swinger" is fantastically sad and wonderful. Thank you!!! I'll be adding that to my iPod. I'm a sucker for the thoughtful and poignant.

Your friend in Minneapolis,

Pearl

Elliott said...

I hate when that happens, and I'm careful about where I spit my gum when I'm done, but it still irritates the wife to no end that I spit it out the car window...

I just accept any time I step in it as karmic interference, and just hope I catch it before I walk in the house.

Lorrie Veasey said...

I just wonder if you light up after you fill the tank, or if you're more of a roll over, go right to sleep kind of a driver.