i think i might have discovered the answer to that question this week after submitting the very long neglected ford to her new friends at the belmont garage. i received daily phone calls from mr.L updating the running total that would soon unload itself on my bank card and one of my credit cards. the total was so grand that i am now refusing to tell anyone of its actual girth. it's so large, it makes me giggle like the professional fat man at the county fair. it's so boisterous, it makes me say things like: well, that's what money's for... to be spent.
it's my own fault, really. and the fault of my two employers who have laid me off and left me virtually moneyless for the better part of the last two years. that's right... i blame them. not my laziness, procrastination, and incompetence as a classic car owner. (i should be taken out and shot)
well, needless to say, after selling off my first born and two of my extraneous organs this morning and bringing the ford back home to roost (i even signed her up for a brand new parking spot which does not require significant feats of strength, agility, and determination to steer her into), i shall be making serious endeavours to drive her on a regular basis.
i like to think that the vast quantity of monetary resources i sent his way, he gave her a very gentle push through the state inspection process. nay, i think i know this to be true. i had found an original replacement for the taillight that had mysteriously come up with a missing chunk, but had yet to locate the hardware to fix the license plate light. c'est la vie.
i deserve a quantity discount.