That’s Life

“That’s life,” my mother tells me, just after I found my “new” Volvo is a complete rip, the warning lights deliberately punched out to deliberately deceive a hopeful buyer.

The mechanic doesn’t want to work on it, as he can’t stand behind the car.   He worries the engine is a cesspool, down to the transmission dipstick stuck in place.

In short, lost car, lost time, lost money and most of all lost hope.

And my mother says “That’s life,” meaning you just get screwed.

And my fear is that she is correct.

If she is, well, who wants to play.

3 thoughts on “That’s Life”

  1. I woke up, or at least I came to, to the sounds of someone screaming in an Emergency room.

    I went upstairs to turn off the TV and my mother was still up at 4 AM.

    “I’m having troubles.

    “When you are a mother, your kids never grow up.

    “I keep thinking what I could have done better.

    “I did the best I could.

    “It wasn’t enough.

    “I’m not enough.”

    Yeah.

    Make it about you.

  2. dear pastamonster, what a total fuck. have you no recourse? was this thing bought sight-undriven? can you bring anything against the seller?

    when you first wrote about the volvo i was really happy for you. i thought that at last you might have some relief from your trap. this is just unbelievably cruel.

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