Category: Car Servicing

‘Dude,’ I grimaced, as my best friend slowed down at an amber light. ‘Your brakes sound horrible.’

‘Ah, they’ve got a bit of life left in them yet,’ he shrugged. ‘I’m too busy to go to a mechanic.’

‘Do you even have any brake pads left?’ I frowned, glancing out of window like I was going to see residual sparks or something.

‘What do you mean?’

‘What do you mean “what do I mean”?’

‘Your brake pads don’t wear away,’ he frowned. ‘That’s silly.’

‘Uh…’ I frowned. ‘They 100% do.’

‘Pffft,’ he chuckled. ‘Next you’re gonna tell me the engine oil runs out too.’

‘You’ve never changed your oil?!’ I gaped, wishing I’d never gotten into this deathtrap of a car.

‘A joke is a joke, Brad,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘But you can’t make it so obvious.’

‘At least your mechanic tops it up every time you get a log book service. Lockleys mechanics follow log books to a tee,’ I muttered, more to myself than to him.

‘What’s that?’

‘I said—’

‘No, what’s a log book service?’ he blinked at me.

‘You’ve never gotten a log book service?!’

‘Why do you keep making that face?’ he frowned. ‘Everyone knows cars just look after themselves. That’s why they’re our best invention.’

‘First off,’ I glared, ‘everyone knows the printing press was the invention with the most significant impact on human knowledge and understanding.’

‘Fair call,’ he nodded.

‘Second of all – get your car looked at by a qualified mechanic!’

‘Woah, woah!’ he held his hands up defensively. ‘Relax would you?’

‘How can I relax, when you’d rather brake your car on bare rims than get a professional brake pad replacement!’

‘I told you,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t need to—’

‘Yes you do!’ I screeched. ‘That’s it, let me out.’

‘What? Brad, we’re in the middle of an intersection,’ he frowned. ‘It’s dangerous to get out of the car here.’

‘No,’ I shook my head and opened the door. ‘Trust me – it’s nowhere near as dangerous as staying in this thing!’

The ferry dinged its final goodbye as it drifted down the harbour, disappearing into a thick layer of fog long before it could vanish behind the horizon. I waved, with no idea whether he could still see me or not, but quickly ran back to my car as the chill set in.

The doors blipped open obediently as my frozen fingers mashed the button on my keys, and I slipped into the driver’s seat, breathing into my hands to bring some life back to them. I fumbled for the ignition, pre-setting the air conditioning dial so that it would blow heat at me as soon as the car started.

I twisted the key in the ignition, bracing myself.

The car groaned, but nothing turned on.

‘What the hell?’ I frowned in the general direction of the engine and tried again. Nothing. On the third try, a flurry of lights flashed on my dashboard, and I scowled at them.

I pulled out my phone and tapped a number with my frozen fingers.

‘Hi, mum,’ I sighed when she picked up. ‘Can you come get me? I’m at the pier.’

‘What’s wrong with your car?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know, it just won’t start.’

‘Why don’t you get Dean to look at it? Doesn’t he work in auto electrics in the Hobart area?’

‘He is, which is why I just put him on a ferry back to Hobart,’ I frowned.

‘Oh dear,’ she tutted.

‘Can you help me or not?’ I rested my head on the steering wheel. ‘Because if not, I’ll just call Jess–’

‘Oh, of course I can help!’ she chided me. ‘So why didn’t you go with him?’

‘Bye!’ I said, and hung up. I called my sister next.

‘I need your help Jess,’ I said, and explained the situation to her. ‘I’d normally get Dean to help with stuff for my car. Service around Hobart can be spotty though, so I don’t think he’d get my call and–’

‘Say no more!’ she called down the line. ‘I’m on my… hang on. Why is mum calling me?’

I slammed my head back onto the steering wheel.