Carried Away: or How I learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Scion

Jorge from Toyota couldn't have been more wrong about my experience w/ the scion, or as I like to call it, the box of death. First lets talk about Thursday

Thursday Night was a rough one. I've come to the conclusion that I'm officially done with redbull and vodka. Nothing good can come of it. This point forward someone else can be that guy. I was a mess. Celebrating a friend's birthday, in a low key manner, In mere hours:

I went from this:----------------------------->to this

Classy, I know. I'm thinking my tolerance was cut in 1/2 by a few pills I took for a toe injury and the fact that I had to work late, hence no dinner. Sure the toe hurt...but I probably would have taken the pills regardless. Bottom line: I was a useless drunk in a cool ass t-shirt. Moving forward my body is a temple. A temple that serves light beer....but a temple none the less. Nothing else. Mark my words. Now that we have all that out of the way we can talk about the Scion.

I woke up w/ a pretty filthy hangover. The red bull & vodka taste lingers no matter how many times you brush your teeth. It never takes. It's kind of awful. I stumbled through my shower and went down to the garage to get in my rental scion. Wouldn't you know it the "sweet" ride would not start. My first thought was to check to see if i left the lights on (something that is impossible to do on a Prius btw) and I was in the clear. What a piece of crap car. I had to wake my roommate up and we attempted to jump the car. Of course when we hooked it up the car didn't start and even wore the jumpers began smoking and melting. I was way too hungover to process all of this. Damn you red bull. I called Toyota and they called their tow guy and he came and jumped the car right away. He explained the gauge* of the jumper cables we were using was too small. Who knew. Sadly even after it was jumped the car would not accelerate. We had to get towed back to Toyota.

Unbelievably the good people of Toyota (including Henry Molina) stated that I was liable for any damage involved from my attempted jump. That knocked the hangover right out of me. A wave of blinding rage washed over me. I told them the only reason I was driving that piece of shit scion to begin w/ was because they had let a cat have a piss party in my prius. This didn't seem to matter to them. I now had to wait as the car was examined by some mechanics and pray that my tiny gauge didn't fry any components. As I waited I decided I'd go on my laptop and do some work. Always the model employee. Sadly the laptop was riding shotgun in the tow truck on its way to the 10 Freeway.

I'm officially king of the jackasses.

Luckily i realized quick enough and was able to get Henry Molina to give the tow guy a call. WOW, who knew Henry Molina was good for something. Not I. After a few hours the mechanic confirmed that the car was in fact not damaged by my amateur jump job. Turns out it had a bad chip or something. I tuned out the diagnosis once I heard "not liable". Even better news: my prius was ready to be picked up. It now smells like Sucrets.

I suppose you could do a lot worse than cherry sucrets.

I was a content man. Finally. To celebrate I called the previous day's birthday girl and got us Bay Cities for lunch. It was my self anointed penance for my poor performance from the day before. A lesson to learn: you can buy a girl's forgiveness with Bay Cities**...that's how good their sandwiches are. I ended up making it in to work at 4pm. The old bizarre 4pm-7:30pm flex hours work day. I wonder if i can do that every Friday.

Good times.

*guage: this has been a big learning week for me when it comes to gauges....and "rebar"


**Bay Cities: You can order online. Trust me its a must do. Bay cities is the only good deli in Santa Monica and its a shit show in there regardless of the time. People swear by the "godmother" but i go w/ a foot long meatball sub