Poor Lola

Lola-May, my '97 Buick, cost me $500. I love her. Not because of her unbeatable cost, but because of her priceless value. From week one, I took her from Cali, to Utah, less than two weeks later down to Texas, over to Louisiana, and then back to Texas, with one last trip to Louisiana, from which I just returned hours ago. All this with very little incident...

Her first moment of retaliation came last year on our trip to Houston (which she has made effortlessly several times). However, she blew out her left rear tire. Thanks to Smileys tire station right smack in the middle of no-where Texas, we were back on the road within an hour.

Last week, I took a trip to corpus Christi, and she did a fine job. And I was especially thankful because I had three unfamiliar (to her) passengers with me, so she behaved quite nicely. However, less than 12 hours after I got home, I was about two miles away from my house and she blew her rear right tire. At least she picked a time that was more convenient than the last tire blow out, and MUCH more convenient than when I had other people for whom I was responsible.

Well, I think I was expecting just a little too much of her this last trip to Louisiana. She made it there beautifully. And even putted around town like a champ. But the evening I head out and get across the Mississippi, she suddenly gives smoke, heat, and check engine lights. Lola had had it. I took her to a mechanic who wouldn't see her till the morning, and my trip home was postponed some 17 hours and $268 later... But to this day, I still haven't paid more for repairs than what I paid for her as a whole.

So we're glad to be home, but she now sits in anger, leaking radiator fluid unto our front street. Poor Lola.