Today's Topic


 

TODAY'S TOPIC:

My Car Was Abducted by
Space Aliens

by
Natalia J. Garland

Print Version

Everybody who owns a car probably has a car-story to tell. I daresay that I have a car-story like none you have ever heard before. Enter into the realm of true but inexplicable new car phenomenon.

I took my car to the dealer for a one-year checkup. All it needed was a basic oil change. I was glad they finished so quickly. I paid them, had my warranty booklet stamped, and cheerfully went home. When I parked the car in my driveway, I heard a ticking noise and smelled something burning. I opened the hood to let the engine cool off. Then I called the dealer who said to bring the car back. They assured me that, so long as no warning lights were flashing on the driver's panel, it was safe to drive. I only half-believed them, but I drove the car back.

The mechanic looked the car over in a puzzled manner, assuring me he would find whatever was wrong and fix it, while at the same time insisting that nothing was wrong. Relying on my trusty social worker skills of engagement, I tried to put him at ease that I was not angry, but just wanted my car to stop ticking and burning. He admitted to me that he had spilled oil on the muffler which had caused the burning odor, but he could not figure out where any ticking was coming from. Of course, the ticking could not be heard at the dealer's with all the traffic and other noises.

We agreed that I would go home, again, and bring the car back, again, in the morning if it was still ticking. It was. And I did. I told the young lady who takes customer complaints that my car was still ticking, like a clock, or like there was a bomb inside. Her eyes suddenly widened with stark fear. I suddenly realized what I had said. I had meant it descriptively, but there was a reality of terrible possibility beneath my words which the young woman had grasped.

This took place during the week when the pipe-bomber was committing his unholy deeds in the Midwest. That a copycat might put a pipe-bomb in my car was a remote possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. I could not believe that anyone at the car dealership would do such a thing. They have been there for so many years. I had made one stop on the way home that day: at the Post Office. Could someone have attached a bomb under my car in the Post Office parking lot? Should I be contacting the police rather than a car mechanic?

The mechanic thoroughly checked the car and could not find any reason for it to be ticking. We agreed that if the car was still ticking when I got home, I would come back the next day and take the mechanic home with me so he could hear the ticking for himself. When I got home, the car was no longer ticking. (I assure you this is a true story. I also have a witness who heard the car ticking.)

This was not the first time my car made a strange noise. Shortly after buying the car, it began making a haunting whistle noise. It was like there was a ghost in the car. It would only happen sometimes and only at speeds over 60 m.p.h. I had taken the car back to the dealer for this problem, too. I had spoken with the garage manager who was honest enough to spontaneously admit to me that this model had a tendency to do that. Fortunately, that noise also went away by itself and I have not been bothered with it since.

Like Hercule Poirot, I am annoyed by unsolved mysteries. Although I am relieved that my car no longer whistles or ticks or burns, I need a satisfying explanation for these occurrences. I have decided that my car must have been abducted, twice, by space aliens.

At night while I am asleep, space aliens come and abduct my car and conduct experiments on it. Then they return it to my driveway by morning. That's why it makes strange noises from time to time. Then when they are finished with their experiments, the space aliens abduct my car again, fix it back to the way it was, and put it back in my driveway again. That must be it. I can't wait to tell the mechanic.

Besides, I would rather live among space aliens than a terrorist of any kind any day. (Written 05/27/02 - Revised 12/01/03)

Until we meet again..............stay sane.


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Copyright 2002, 2003 Natalia J. Garland