Well, shit.
Was having a good day. Played some games, did some laundry, had a decent supper with a movie, the usual. Was gonna head out and have a few drinks and. . . my truck started acting poorly. It's had its issues for the past few months, sure. Some idling problems, a few engine shudders, tiny bit of slight overheating (I blame the weather for that one), but nothing that's to be expected from a 16 year-old vehicle that's had few major problems.
Tonight it decided to remind me that a major problem is overdue. A few miles down the highway and BOOM. Feels like someone set off a bomb near my truck. Bad, violent stutter. I'm a little confused, wondering what it was. Felt like it happened when changing gears. BOOM. Happens again about 20 seconds later. I'm able to turn around and get it home. No issues on the way home, acts normal. But I know that it's not. I know that something is going to give. I thought it had another year left in it. I'd be surprised if it lasted another week.
The plan was to drive it back to the hometown before the semester started and fix everything that was probably ailing it (spark plugs, possibly the distributor cap, maybe even the O2 sensor). Back home, we can fix all of that for cheap (we have a mechanic who owes us a billion favors). Now, I'm damn sure it won't make the trip.
I don't want to get a mechanic here. They're expensive and nine times out of ten, will fix the first thing they find wrong without looking for more issues. They'll rape your wallet for parts and labor and shrug in obliviousness when the problems persist. I hates them so.
Worst part is, this truck does not have a trade-in value, due to its age. I think it was worth maybe 2K when I checked the books last year, and that's when it was in "good" condition. Now that it's dying?
All we needed was to make it last one more year. I'd finish school and get a job and be able to pay for a newer vehicle as I put mine to rest. But it probably won't make it to the beginning of the semester.
It sucks. It really sucks. I'm very attached to this damn thing. I've had it since high school, and it got me out of my hometown when I was ready to move to my next stage in life. It's hauled furniture, friends, and kegs to many places in Texas. It represented my freedom: from school, life, and anything else. I didn't like being somewhere? It took me where I wanted, when I wanted. Plus, it was a blast to drive. Up until recently, it was a smooth, sturdy vehicle. I felt safe (2 tons of steel will do that). Has a good stereo, too. I spent many days driving, windows down, cigarette in hand, feeling the wind in my face while blasting classic rock. I'd never taken it on a serious road trip, though, due to it drinking fuel like it was water in the desert. As prices went up, my trips became less frequent, and as it started getting ill, I knew that it didn't have another road-trip left in it.
Hopefully, it can be fixed. Hopefully, it won't be stupidly expensive (HA!). But the Beast is dying.
Though I'm going to risk taking it to Pinballz tomorrow. I may not be able to afford a new engine, but I can afford some fucking pinball, dammit. And a tow truck.
I know it's just a truck, but it's probably the only thing I own that has helped me through the last 11 years of my life.
I'm not looking forward to the phone call to my Dad tomorrow. Or the following week. Or the following debt.
More to come as it occurs.
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