Dipstick Diaries

SOOO…I have this girlfriend, Sasha.   Sasha and I  are the same age, but.. she is prettier, smarter, makes more money, can speak more languages & is more well-traveled than me.  That being said, you can now imagine how thrilled I am to have this story of epic-resourcefulness to hold over her…

At the time, Sasha and I had pretty crappy cars..actually, her’s was crappier than mine, but, they’re paid for.. and that wins.  Well, I guess the crap-factor vs. paid-for-factor was finally out of balance enough to push Sasha into buying a new car, but her timing was off.  She didn’t know if the crap-car was going to make it until the new car was ready, and mentioned something about an oil leak to me a few times, but I never thought anything of it, because she sounded like she had it all figured out….and sometimes I don’t pay attention.

FFWD:  Halloween of 09. I am HUNG-the-FUCK-OVER.  Going to some techno rave BS the night before in half of my Lady GaGa outfit was not a good idea. Sasha was annoying me because she had just gotten back from Morrocco, she didn’t know what she was going to be, she had to work that afternoon, and she wants to live in the 80s.. Luckily, I had managed to come up with a good idea that wasn’t all 80s all the time:  Kim Kardashian. Yaay!  She liked it, and said she’d be over shortly.

By this time, I’m probably on my 2nd beer and 5th advil.  Sasha finally calls me to tell me she’s leaving work and will be over soon to go to the wig store.  Buuutt, not even 5 min later she calls again saying her car is smoking, and she needed me to come pick her up.

Mind you, I am in no position to tell anyone that they’re being crazy.. But this ho was acting freaking crazy.  Somewhere between my hangover, her ranting to her dad in Spanish, and the rate at which she pulled the dipstick out of her car engine.. I felt the need to interject with the following:

Sasha,  How do you know your car is low on oil when you just slaaang all of the oil on the dipstick on the ground?
Sasha,  I would just put 1 qt.
Sasha,  How is your car possibly burning that much oil?
Sasha,  If your car was leaking that much oil, the EPA WOULD FINE YOU DIRECTLY AND BABY SEALS WOULD SHOW UP OUTSIDE YOUR HOUSE PROTESTING YOUR VERY EXISTENCE.

Finally, I talk Sasha into limping back my house and resolve to help her sell the death trap the following week so that we could get on with our day and out of the deserted parking lot.  This was much more appealing than her plan, which was to take our  fucking circus and 2 shitty-car caravan to CarMax to sell the death trap for 3 dollars.

She agreed to my plan, but because I am apparently the boy in the relationship, she wanted me to drive… Which makes me feel super-manly in retrospect, but at the time, I would have thrown her over my shoulder and marched the 4 miles back to my house and MARRIED HER for another advil.

Now, because I am not actually a boy, I had to phone-a-friend, who promised that it was most likely that the oil was getting past the rings, and into the pistons, and getting burned like gas in the process…AND that I, in fact, would not blow up in a fiery ball of Japanese engineered shit.

Once I got the green-light, the ‘circus’ left the parking lot in the BIGGEST CLOUD OF SMOKE I HAVE EVER SEEN.  This means a lot, coming from a girl who grew up in Cut ‘N Shoot.

Sasha made me pull over and she was CRYING!!!  How cute is that?!  I seriously couldn’t even make fun of her at that point… until she said:

“Kris, do you have a like a boy or something that could come drive it?  I am just scared and I don’t want you to either.”

Me:  “You mean…like one that is more disposable than me?   Like a friend that I wouldn’t mind seeing die in a giant ball of flames in front of me?  A sacrificial lamb of sorts?  Because that’s kind of what you’re saying…”

Sasha:  “Yes.”

Me:  “OMG. You are insane.  We are leaving.”

FFWD to the next week, post GaGa & Kardashian:

Tweedle Dee & Tweedle DON’T finally seek professional guidance…and go to my neighborhood service station, explain the situation, and get them to investigate before we take it to CarMax.  The lube guy (ha) went to check the dipstick in the approved motion of slow & steady…and he STARTED LAUGHING.

Tweedle DONT had managed to fit 6 qts. OVER THE MAX in her car and she created the problem!!

Fix:  $10.

Knowing your most capable friend was actually buying oil by the case:  priceless.