Car Yoga

I have a car.  It is my own car, not shiny or brand new, but it is all mine.  I like my car.  And because I like my car, I allow it to have little issues and I try to make excuses for why it’s little issues exist (sort of like “my child isn’t a brat, she’s just overtired”)

My driver side car door broke.  The hinge things that attach it to the car no longer wish to attach it to the car.  

 I feel that this could be a problem moving forward in life.

It happened gradually.  I had warning, but being the way I am, I figured that it was just something that would fix itself.  For a while I chalked it up to being too cold out and the door was stiff, so I had to lift it up a bit to get it to align.  I went with that idea until it started to not be cold out anymore.  I had to find a new excuse for why my door was not closing without manual effort. 

During this time, I managed to throw out my shoulder and my back trying to lift up the door to close it while being in the driver’s seat.  I think that is the point where I figured that I might need professional intervention.  I thought about it for a while, not making too many moves towards fixing it--  I think I was still holding out hope that my good thoughts and the Automobile Fairy would come down and sprinkle magic wd-40 and all would be as it should be. 

BAD-EVIL-DOOR

I was wrong.  The problem with being wrong is not the actual admittance of being wrong.  No..  The problem with being wrong is the absolutely unacceptable and inconvenient timing as to when you are proven to be wrong.

The day my car door stopped being a useful method of car entry happened at last call on a Saturday night.   As I opened my door the hinge laughed manically at me and said, HA, I hold your door up no more!  And my door did this wonderful dip to the ground thing, clinging to the one remaining hinge in vain.  My friend had already gotten into her car (hamster mobile) and sped off into the moonlight, so she did not see what had happened to me.  I stood there in the parking lot, searching around for a helpful person to help me.   There was a group of “gently” sauced women standing in a circle.  Unfortunately, either my little cries for help were drowned out by the haze of smoke around their circle or they saw me and decided that manual labor was going to be a sort of alcoholic buzz repellent, so they didn’t come and assist me.   

Now, I drive a Saab.  Saabs are heavy, very heavy.  Their doors are also heavy.  I am 5 ft and ½ inch.  I am barely taller than my car and I am lacking in extreme upper body strength.  Get the visual of me trying to lug this door back up to where it belonged, then try to get it back on it’s broken hinge bracket and then get it shut.  Trust me, I had to make a few tries to do this.. At this time I am panicking a bit as the parking lot is clearing out rapidly (it was a small parking lot, so I am exaggerating a bit here).. Smoking women have poured themselves into their cars with doors that work and left me there.  At one point I slipped on the dirt of the parking lot and found myself sliding to the ground.  Still clinging to the door, I am now worried that it was going to pin me to the ground and land on me and I will be unable to leave.  Unsavory thoughts started to enter my mind, alone and near a mini golf place, you never know what sort of evil lurks at the 7^th hole.. 

The Automobile Fairy finally answered my pleas and I managed to get the damn door up and closed.  Yay me!   I then had to crawl through my passenger side into the driver’s seat.  I now know to keep both the passenger and driver’s seats pushed all the way back so as to make this an easier task.  Not so that original night.  I climbed in the car, butt to the windshield, hunched over like Quasimodo.  I tried to do a turn once I was fully in, but the seat was too close and it wasn’t working the way it was supposed to.. Basically put it this way, if there was a twister game cloth in my car, my right hand would have been on red, left on green, right leg on blue, left leg on red..  I finally managed to get myself in my seat, knees under the steering wheel instead of parallel to it and drive the 1/8^th a mile home (yes, this was all for 1/8^th of a mile)

This happened about 3 months ago.  Yup, that is right.. I have been doing the Dukes of Hazzard (yes, I know that isn’t technically their move, I am not going through the window, but it makes me feel cooler to call it by a name that had Bo Duke associated) move for 3 months now.  I have it down to a science, but it isn’t any less embarrassing when I have to bring Gabe to school and we are late.  Nothing worse than climbing in and out of your car like a monkey next to a perfectly normal mother who is showing off to me in her ability to exit her vehicle normally.  I’ve decided that if anyone asks me about it (which thankfully no one actually has, thank god), I am going to tell them that I am trying to found a new Yoga Movement--  Too busy to go to yoga practice?  No problem, here are 10 useful poses to do in your car!  Say it with a smile and no one notices the beads of perspiration on your forehead or the horror in your child’s face.

I brought it out to my SAAB MECHANIC.  I give him all caps because he is a guru of all things SAAB.  Apparently this is a weird thing to happen and in all his days as a SAAB MECHANIC, he’s never seen this.  Even more crazy, Saab only has 2 of these little hinge thingys in their warehouse…period….   My guru says that this will cost me at least $300 in labor, from an early estimate, not counting parts or any other myriad of issues that occur once the door is off.    YIKES.. 

 So, I continued to climb, what is a little pride at the end of the day right? 

BUT, then the Automobile Fairy visited me again.  Stupidly, I forgot that I know people.  People who know how to fix things and because I am such a lovely person and kind to everyone around me (shush, don’t blow my cover), have offered to take care of it for me.  Maybe even this weekend!  Oh joy!!

And yah, once it is fixed I might still crawl through the passenger seat once in a while to stay humble….

No, no I won’t..