Fuck. My. Life. The KKK took my baby away. Imagine it's Saturday night. You are driving yourself, your best friend and two females down to a block party for a night of shenanigans. You're driving in your shiny, black 2002 Acura RSX. The window is partially down so you can hear the whine of your intake when you hammer the accelerator to show off. Your ion yellow foglights are on, again, just to show off. The interior is as if a submarine, lit by red LEDs. The car is a work of art. Everything was thought about. Honda spared no detail with this car. Look at any review of it, the entire shebang was about the driver. The car begged to be driven. As you are fulfilled what will soon be the last wishes of such an art piece, everything. stops.
"What the fuck was that?"
Everyone's fine. Get out of panic mode. Get out. Smoke. Combustion smoke. Open the hood, don't choke on the cloud. What the fuck? What happened? Everything looks fine. Move it out of the road. What did you just step in? Oil. Why? You just lost half a quart. No engine pressure. Why? Dad's here, you're saved. Push it to the side of the road. Go home, wash up. Take mom's car to go pretend to have fun.
Tuesday. Your car is finally towed to a shop, you wait all day and hear nothing. Wednesday, bloody Wednesday. "Bad news about car, call on lunch. -Mom." I knew it. It's all over. Maybe I just popped the oil filter out of place, wishful thinking. A piston nearly went through the engine block. You are fucked, and need a new motor. There is no way around this. You cannot get a loan for a new car, insurance will not cover this and you don't have enough saved for a new engine. You are on your own, with no help available from anybody. The feeling of helplessness is crippling.
Hi there, welcome to my last 5 days.
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