For a while now, we've had an ongoing discussion of which will die first: the 1996 Opel Tigra or the General Electric wbxr1060tbww washing machine. At first it was a joke, but it's become a rather serious battle. One of these is destined to meet its maker.
When I first arrived in April, the washer had a quirk. "If it doesn't spin, just remove the clothes and lift the drum and it should be fine. Also, the wash settings dial is gone, so to start a load, use pliers to pull the metal piece out to start the machine." When Boris first lent me his car, it was "now the drive shaft doesn't always click into position properly, so just maneuver it until it clicks into gear." I'm used to quirky machines, these should be fine.
Now the Tigra may look sleek and sporty, and I may get many compliments from local teenage boys and endless long stares through town, but don't be fooled, this is not an island worthy vehicle. Why not? Because this is a developing country and the roads are not smooth. Like one night when I hit a rock pulling into the Rusty parking lot and the car stalled out, wouldn't start, and smelled badly of fuel. Thankfully, Ray at CarCare tows on Saturdays and replaced the plastic/rubber fuel line that I severed so strategically. Here's $90.
Currently, the washer will fill to 'mini-basket' and agitate to wash but will only spin 1/10 cycles. Oh, and the car, automatic transmission, now only starts in neutral.
One day the car stopped accelerating. On the instrument panel there was a blinking "S" with a circle around it. Sugar? Sportmode? Sell Now? It would drive forward, but felt like I was towing a tank. No pick up. Couldn't get up my steep terrifying driveway even when I got a 100 yard full speed running start. Ughh. The nice Filipino boys at CarCare noticed the car was overheating and decided that little Opel needed a transmission overhaul including replacing the automatic transmission fluid. They found that when Jerry had bypassed the temp sensor, he left the dead sensor in the engine with a bunch of mangled crossed wires. Only $99 and 8 hours later, I was out of Super Fucked mode and back on the road and up the driveway.
I've begun frequenting a laundromat called 4TY. Reminds me of the Grey Lynn Laundrette which makes me wish Ben and Amy were here so we could eat pies and play scratch cards while people watching and waiting for available dryers.
So these are the stakes. Place your bets folks.
No comments:
Post a Comment