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Tuesday, February 13, 2007

The Wacky Stasis

My car doesn't start, and it's all my fault.
I got my car for free, as the result of a de-facto break-up a year ago. I also got a broken heart, an iMac and all the good kitchenware, so things could've been worse.
I'm relatively new to the vehicular arts (a late bloomer in the driving-lesson stakes) so I currently hold only a provisional licence, and a healthy respect for the dangers of driving. As a result, I drive like a nanna on Valium, and as infrequently as possible.
I walk to work and to the shops, so my car battery, having been left to fester in its own foamy acid-discharge, is as useless as antlers on a halibut.
Basically what I have parked out the front of my house is a lump of P-plated metal with doors. And fuzzy 8-balls hanging from the rear-vision mirror. And cobwebs on the tires. Seriously.

I hate to see a perfectly good chassis go to waste, so I've come up with some possible alternative uses for my forsaken, perpetually stationary automobile.

I know from experience how soupy and jungle-esque the interior of my car can get if it sits out in the sun, so it may be just the perfect agricultural environment for ferns, orchids and the like. I could water it through the window, fertilise it through the hatchback and maybe get a lemur in.

Clown Rehearsal Workshop
I'm happy to hire out my vehicle to let clowns rehearse the old "look-how-many-of-us-get-out-of-this-wacky-car" chestnut. Group discount, of course.

Lending a certain Cone-Of-Silence air to important meetings, my car can facilitate up to four delegates comfortably. Refreshments can be inserted into the handy cup-holders, and important documents stored in the glovebox. Overhead projectors may not be logistically feasible.

More salon than saloon, my car has everything. Tilt the chair back for over-the-basin washing, have the hairdresser sit behind you in cushioned comfort, open the window to assist drying, and see the finished product from most angles using a number of mirrors. Mind the blind spot.

Hiding Place
From the innocence of Hide-and-Seek to the comparative gravitas of Osama-style secretions, my car has comfort, locking doors and tinted windows. The radio doesn't work without the battery, so unless you sneeze or step on a loud stick, nothing will give you away.

Chicken Coop
Ironically, without a battery, my car could still be used for battery hens – I envision the eggs being delivered out the exhaust pipe. I couldn't do this, though – I'm strictly a free-range girl, so I suppose I'd have to limit it to a maximum of four hens, and maybe a cock, for breeding purposes. Luckily, my car is guaranteed fox-proof!

Kiddie Jail
When the neighbourhood urchins get at the bikkie-jar and go on Ritalin-proof rampages, I could simply charge parents a small fee to strap them into my car and wind up the windows, leaving them free for cocktail parties and the viewing of non PG-rated television. The aforementioned tinted windows would help guard against paedophiles, but I'd be sure to leave them open a crack. This ain't the casino, y'know.

Place To Put Pens
Or rubber bands.


shellity said...

Hey, if your car is so fox-proof, then why have YOU got it?

I laughed a lot at this whole thing. Needless to say though, I find the situation fairly serious. But you know that already, so I'll just shut my mouth.

londongirl said...

I think the chicken coop idea is fabulous - eco friendly recycling the car, giving hens a marvellous new life. Check you out. It's The Good Life all over again.

Jo said...

Felicity Kendal eat your heart out. Although I'm not sure she drove a Suzuki Swift.

Melly` said...

Very amusing post. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

Way to steal my parents 'car as chicken coop' idea. Except theirs was an old truck with no wheels. And no windscreen. And it wasnt so often used by chickens (snake got 'em mostly) as by feral cats to have their kittens. And by my brothers who locked me in after luring me in with "Gee, I hope Sarah doesnt find that chocolate we hid in the old truck". Good times...good times.