So, my car is a 2001 Ford Taurus which suffers from three severe ailments:
- It’s a Ford.
- It’s old.
- It’s a ninja.
I know what you’re thinking: “Rebecca, you’re car is a ninja! How is that a bad thing?”
I’ll tell you.
My car is such a good ninja, it blends into the night like a silken shadow of inconspicuousness. This resulted in my grandmother bumping into it one night, scratching some paint, and throwing my car into a wail of siren-honking alarms.
All’s well and good, right?
That’s what the Anti-Ninja Association (ANA) WANTS you to think.
Last night, my car slipped into the shadows once more, parked with the grace of an untended log. Then, WHAM! Rebecca is startled from her writing-fest by the wailing alarm of her car. This time, however, there was a crash.
An innocent driver pulling out of the parking lot WHAM-BAMMED right into poor Ninja Car. The driver’s door took the brunt of the stealth attack: shattered window, broken handle, unseemly crater-like dent.
And unsuspecting first-car-owner Rebecca had bare but the essential insurance to legally drive the car. No heroic insurance rescue, no magical fix, no liability, no monies.
Numbers and data exchanged, and a sheet of plastic + duct tape protects dear Ninja Car from the snow. It’s a bit of an eyesore, but necessary.
But Ninja Car just WILL NOT BE de-stealthed!
Driving at 70 miles per hour in wintry coldness, Ninja Car sheds the protective plastic with all the grace of Elsa tossing away her cape. Stop it, Ninja Elsa Car. THE COLD WILL BOTHER YOU.
Anyway, once at work, new duct tape is applied with tender frozen fingers, but since the silver duct tape was depleted, striped purple-black duct tape now holds the operation together. MacGyver would cry in shame.
I explain to Ninja Elsa Car that it needs to wear the protective plastic because the snow will freeze it. If it freezes, then ANA (Anti-Ninja Association) wins! We can’t let that happen! Ninja Elsa Car is too awesome to fail.
And so, the Ninja Car rests in yet another parking lot with bright striped duct tape to hopefully bring it forth from the shadows and into the realm of the surreptitious and visible.
Rest easy, Ninja Car. I hope you can put your days of shadow-stepping behind you, but you can still drive me to and from work, if you want.
(Sidenote Edit: Just realized this is my 100th post on my blog. And of all the posts in all the world, this is the lucky duck. Thanks to all who read, laugh, and learn. You, too, can be a ninja. As long as you don’t mind getting hit by cars because no one sees you coming.)