The car survived the weekend okay. I drove it to the service place this morning in the pouring rain and peak hour traffic. Lovely. Despite my public transport-supporting tendencies, I was glaring at the bus a few vehicles in front of me – until it stopped outside a school and about 50 teenagers got out, and I suddenly realised how much longer it would be taking me to get down the road if in front of me were those 50 teenagers in 50 parents’ cars instead.
I dropped the car off and walked to the nearby station to catch the train into work. That’s not on my usual line, and the train didn’t seem very crowded for 8:30 on a Monday morning. So at first I was thinking bloody Sandringham line passengers, they have it easy. But after a couple of stops, the train was just as packed as my usual sardine run, so fair enough then.
I picked up the car this afternoon, and they told me the windscreen wiper motor had shorted. Probably got sprayed with leaking radiator coolant. Terrific. Chi-ching. This car thing, it’s a real money pit. I’m grudgingly glad to have it back in one piece and working though.