Look how happy he is to see me! I don’t think it’s very nice there at that mechanic’s; they didn’t even close the hood properly. But they’re going to take him to a big farm upstate, where there’s lots of room for him to run around and plenty of other Miatas for him to play with. So that’s okay!
The man who sold me this car had absolutely no interest in selling me a car. He’d recently had a heart attack and he was full of philosophy and dreams of retirement. That might have been mildly entertaining if it had been a private sale, but I was buying from a dealership at dealership prices and I pretty much expected to have my bottom smooched. Or at the very least my questions answered.
See this? Here is the reason I bought this Miata out of all the ones I looked at. It’s a combination-lock/handbrake. No, it never actually worked, but it’s SO COOL! I promised myself I’d never tell I bought a car for the handbrake.
See, this wasn’t really the best deal. It had higher mileage than the other Miatas I was looking at in the price range. But I kept thinking about that gnarly handbrake. Fixating, even. And it’s dangrous to ignore a fixation. Science has proved it. Conclusively.
Now that we know how it came out, I can confess all. 215, 461, baby!
I pretty much gave up on it at 160,000. By that time, it was eating a quart of oil a month and the rocker panels were rusting through. Matter of time, I thought. Nothing but gas, oil and air in the tires from now on. Fifty five thousand miles later…and it would still be going if I’d known a good shade tree mechanic.
Oh, well. Goodnight, Weaselmobile. And thank you. You’re going to love it on that farm…