my car and i are fighting

My car is making a weird noise. But only when it's in reverse. And only some of the time.

Saturday night I took my sister to see Mean Girls at the cheap theater in Dayton, which was a mistake. First of all, it was Saturday night and the theater was packed. And, going against every Holy Theater Law, they didn't show previews before the movie. A movie without previews is like a night without stars! Or peanut butter without jelly. Well, actually, I like peanut butter without jelly sometimes, so it's more like jelly without peanut butter! Yeah!

Anyway, since the movie was at the cheap theater, there were a lot of people who didn't really care if they missed bits of the movie because they wanted to socialize. At one point, some woman stood in the back of the theater and yelled "Scooter!" for about 5 minutes until some guy came running up the aisle. Because just standing in one place, yelling, and disturbing the entire theater is a much better option than having to walk all the way to the front of the theater, whispering your friend's name and only disturbing a few people.

I should have known better. This is the same theater where I once got so annoyed at this girl on her cell phone, who, when shushed by someone behind me, responded with 'shh, yourself,' that I leaned forward and told her to shut up and hang up her fucking phone.

The movie ended and we practically ran out of the theater, dodging those little kids who seem to live in the theater for the sole purpose of spinning in circles and running into people, making them spill their popcorn and drop-kick the kid across the lobby. I tried to start my car and . . . nothing. Not even that rrr-rrr noise a car will usually make when it won't start. It just sat there, not doing anything. There were no sirens or blinking lights to tell me what was wrong, like there would be if I designed cars. My parents were hours away visiting friends, so I called my uncle and he offered to come get my sister and me (thanks again, Uncle John!). Of course, about 30 seconds (if that) after I hung up with him, my car started. Granted, it felt like it would stall again at any minute and it was making a strange rattling noise, but now I felt like a dumbass, or one of those ditzy girls who suddenly realizes her car won't start because she's out of gas or she's turning the key the wrong direction.

When my uncle got there, he couldn't find anything wrong with the car, so he followed me home. When my dad got home the next day, he played around with the car, put more transmission fluid in it, and then drove it around a little. That's when we noticed the weird, rattly noise it makes when it's in reverse. My dad thinks it's the transmission, which would suck anyway because transmissions are freaking expensive, but which sucks doubly because we had the transmission completely rebuilt about a year ago.

My old car was a 1985 Buick Skylark. Good old Big Blue. That thing was a tank. I could have run full speed into a tree and not even dented the thing. Not that I ever tested that, though. That car never broke down. I mean, yeah, eventually it got to the point where starting it got a little difficult. It was pretty much start, stall, start, stall, start, accelerate, just kidding, stall, etc, until it would finally start and stay and I could drive away and be fine. I mean, sure, it might have not started a couple times, but at least it had the good grace to do it in the safety and comfort of my own driveway. It never stranded me anywhere, except for that one time, but that was my fault because I locked the keys in the trunk.

This car has stranded me twice now. And back when the transmission went bye-bye, it stalled in the middle of an intersection. Twice. On two separate occassions. And people are mean! Only one car stopped and asked if I needed help; the rest just honked at me like I was sitting there for my own enjoyment. Jerks.

Anyway. That's why my car and I are fighting. Maybe he's just jealous because I never gave him a name.