I had a slight problem over Christmas. With my car. It wasn’t, for a better word, behaving so well. For a not so better word, it was being a complete git. You see, last year it went through a phase where the key would not turn in the ignition barrel. Like the steering lock was on. But it wasn’t…obviously. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been a problem, would it now.
To resolve the problem on the times it did it, I would take the key half way out of the barrel and then…well…crack it as hard as I could with my hand. After a few attempts, the key would generally turn fine, and I would develop a suitably impressive bruise on my hand which looked like I had been in a fight with a horse or something, and got a sexy wound to show it. And then, after whacking the key over the period of weeks the problem went away and the key turned everytime I tried to start the car.
Deciding that I had blatantly forgotten it’s Christmas present (which I had. I wanted to get it a skirt, but…well..I didn’t want to ask it what size I had to get. I mean, it has a big arse.), it decided to start giving me crap again. Bless it.
But this time it was different. It was the same as before, but the car was being a little more stubborn.
Let me show you the exhibits from the crime:
Exhibit 1 – The friggin large can of WD-40 I wrote about a while back. Yes, I still have it. And it is still 99% full. At least I found a new and novel approach to using it which I will cover later. I would say more about how much I hate that I still have it, but the WD-40 police came knocking last time I mentioned them. Well their PR company did. And if they are reading this….GO AWAY ALREADY! There is nothing bad here apart from the smell of my feet. I mean holy hell…I washed, but what is up with that smell? I should go see a doctor.
Exhibit 2 – My car key. Yes, I get that there are other things attached. If you think I am going to remove the key from the fob just to please you, well you can just shove it where the…you know, I am just going to say it is my car key. I think we were getting off on the wrong foot there for a second.
Exhibit 3 – Worked out what it is? A nut? Nope. A sponge? Nope. A painting of Tom Cruise wearing an itsy bitsy bikini? Nope. Exhibit 3 is infact the ignition barrel from my car, and not a carton of yoghurt like you were thinking.
Exhibit 4 – The car seat. This exhibit is of no use. I had to lay the items somewhere to take the photo. If exhibit 4 had been my bare chest, you may have been offended, thus the seat it is. It is a pretty seat. It has patterns, and leather at the side and allows me to sit down. Very clever invention indeed. Oh…and that shadow to the right of the barrel? Umm…I don’t know what that is, and in no way is it what you think it is…I don’t do things like that in the car. So I should probably ask the guy I bought it from just what the hell he was doing.
So how did these three things come to be laying on the seat of my car posing for a photograph?
Well. Let me set the scene, as it is important.
It was cold. It was snowing. I had a coat on.
There. I think you get the mood of the evening. I shall continue.
With plans for myself, Mrs Sy and child Sy to go out to friends for the night, I attempted to start the car, but the return of the stuck barrel was on my back like a poo throwing monkey. It wasn’t having it. I sent Mrs Sy and child Sy back to the house to keep warm while I had a chat with the lock. 40 minutes later, I sprayed WD-40 in to the lock. For a laugh. Coz it really wasn’t working well for me. It didn’t work. Surprisingly.
Then, I decided to hit it harder than I ever had, and ka-chiiiing. Key turns. Engine starts. Wife and child return to the car and we drive in a foot of snow 40 miles to friends. “It’ll be OK tomorrow” I said to myself.
I was wrong.
The next day I returned to the car to remove the ice, snow and the unbelievable large bird crap from, the car. I am not kidding. It looked like a Great Dane had taken a dump from 50 feet above my car. Do they have pterodactyls where we visited??
The shock and horror of finding the key not turning again was to be expected, so I gave it the grief I gave it the night before. Nothing. An hour later of bruised painful hands, I decided it was a really bad time to let the AA membership run out and not renew it. For those of you not in the UK, the AA is Automobile Association, and not Alcoholics Anonymous. The car not working hadn’t made me swallow a bottle of whisky or anything.
I started to get a little annoyed. By a little, I mean “Physical violence is the only way forward for this bastard bloody metal crap ball of worthless shite of a car” annoyed.
So I reached for the can of WD-40. No, I didn’t spray it down the barrel hole. I put the key in the ignition….and beat the crap out of the key with the can of WD-40. Yes. I took that highly pressurised contained, and in the confined space of the car, I repeatedly beat crap out of the key. For about 2 minutes. I was semi expecting an explosion, in which case I would have sued WD-40 for not telling me that using the pressurised can for violence against a car barrel would lead to a small explosion. But luckily for me…and them…I didn’t die. As you can tell by me writing this.
Giving up, I decided to go back inside the house and admit my defeat. So I pulled the key out. And the barrel came with it. Ah crap. So there I am. 40 miles from home, no car recovery cover and I have the car barrel in my hand.
Those of you who have never stolen a car before, or don’t know how to…I wont explain how easy it was to start the car at this point and has been ever since without the need of a barrel.
Those of you that do steal cars…you are very naughty indeed….and no coming round to get my car. Especially as you now know what the seats look like now.
Now. What else can I use that goddamn can of WD-40 for?
wheelturninghamsterdead.com 