MACHO


I understand how this may seem overboard to some but...

I did something very wrong to Macho, my car. It was so wrong that while I was driving it, it went from gurgle, to sputter, to dead. I did not panic at all when that happened. I knew exactly what I had to do. I called Papa.

Now, I never formed an affinity to my car. For me it is what it is, a tool that served me well. But when it became apparent that Macho needed some fixing, and when I learned that he had to spend a night at the service center, gosh!... I could actually feel the car hurting, as in sick hurting. Realizing that made me, as the pirates would say, 'shiver me timbers!'

But anyway, Macho's back and Papa and I took him out for a ride. When we pulled in to his usual place in the garage, I gave him a pat and whispered, 'Welcome back, baby.'

I never thought I'd ever have to say this but yeah, I guess I love my car.