I recently bought a car that I love. It’s quite new and has all the fancy gadgets that people want in a car, like touch screen capabilities, cameras, cruise control, the lot. Everyone is really impressed with me because I saved up enough money to buy this awesome car even though I only work part-time. Not many people can say they own a car at my age, especially one that’s so new and fancy.
The only problem with my car is that my parents love it. They want to drive it everywhere, to the point where I don’t even get to drive my own car anymore. They just keep driving away with it and making me pay for the petrol even though they’re the people driving it! They said that it’s payback for all the years that they drove me around and I used their petrol.
They even made me take my car to the expert mechanic close to Hobart to get it repaired when one of them broke it! I don’t know what exactly they broke or how, and neither of them would admit who did it, but I’m angry. Surely I don’t have to pay for them to use my car and then damage it! I need to take a stand.
I think it’s getting to the point where I might have to move out. My parents are just taking advantage of my awesome car, and they don’t really care that I’ve asked them to stop. I overheard them talking in the kitchen yesterday morning about selling their cars and just using mine full time. Surely that’s not allowed.
When I went and got my car fixed, I ranted to the mechanic who did my transmission repair in Hobart. Apparently what my parents are doing isn’t uncommon. He said there was some name in car psychology for it, but I’ve forgotten what that is now. All I know is that I need to get my parents help, or I’ll never get to drive my car again.
I’m not a huge fan of manual cars. In fact, I never have been. The only reason I drive a manual car is that when I first started driving ten years ago my dad insisted that I learn on a manual as he felt it would make me a better driver and I’d be in more control. I’m not sure how much it helped. The upside of it is I have more options when it comes to purchasing a car, but I do find I tend to take preference to purchase automatic cars. I find them much easier to drive and a lot less stressful. I understand why some people prefer manuals but when you’re already concentrating on driving safely and watching out for hazards I don’t see how being concerned about an extra pedal and keeping one hand off the steering wheel is helping you be a better driver. If anything, I’d say it’s too much multitasking.
For the last few months, I’ve been driving my dad’s old car but I’m starting to notice signs of brake and clutch failure. While driving the other day I noticed a very strange squealing and rumbling noise when applying pressure to the clutch. It also felt like the clutch pedal was sticking, which made it really difficult to change gears with ease. Then there was an incident earlier this morning when I was driving to work that felt like I had a momentary loss of acceleration and that my clutch was slipping.
I’ve decided to not drive this car for a few days and will take it to be looked at by a mechanic. Milperra has a mechanic that is not too far away. I’m hoping that this issue won’t be too costly and will be easy for the mechanic to sort out. This is another reason I’m not a fan of manual cars, it’s another thing that can go wrong.
I love to paint strange pictures. It’s my favourite hobby. I’ve been painting ever since I was old enough to hold a brush (arguably even earlier, if you count painting with food), and it has been my biggest passion ever since. I love to paint pictures of people doing their professions. Lately, I’ve been working on an artwork depicting a local mechanic, as he labours away underneath a fancy car. I drew the sketch as the mechanic performed brake repair, with his permission, of course. I have done a lot of similar paintings in my time, but this one may just be my favourite yet. That said, I usually think that about all the paintings I do.
Last year’s painting of the llama farmer was my favourite when I made it. I’d never painted a llama before, or a farmer, so it was the perfect combination. Then there was the painting of the clerk in a bookstore with flying books around her, a few years ago. I thought that was the best painting I’d ever done. But it is different this time. I could have chosen to paint the mechanic doing anything other than brake repair, but this has a special meaning to it. Why choose that over, let’s say, performing a logbook service? Close to Adelaide, there were plenty of mechanics willing to be painted, but I chose this one because he’s willing to do the grunt work and get dirty himself. The brakes are the one thing protecting drivers and passengers from a certain demise on the road, so this painting symbolises how mechanics save lives with their tireless, thankless work.
After this, I’m going to move onto a dream-inspired artwork, titled ‘Dreamcatcher’. I’ve had this one planned for quite a while, and I’m sure it’s going to become my best painting ever. Just like this one is. First, I need to focus on finishing ‘Life Saver’, my current best-ever painting.
Trent was a regular guy living a regular life, doing normal, boring things every day. The most interesting thing in his life was that he sometimes liked to go out on the river in his rowboat, singing the old nursery rhyme about rowing your boat while he rowed his boat. Trent was an odd fellow. One of the more frustrating things in his life was getting his boat out of his vehicle, once he got to the river. His boat was heavy and awkward. And then Trent had a brilliant idea. An idea so brilliant that it would be put in the book ‘Brilliant Ideas of Brilliance’. What if he was to invent a car that was also a rowboat? Trent immediately went to work, finding a reliable mechanic near Queanbeyan who could help bring his genius idea to life. Many people laughed at Trent when he told them of his plans, but oh, he would get the last laugh indeed.
In order to ensure that his idea would work, Trent built a prototype out of yarn. He spent many days making it, cutting yarn up and putting it together in the world’s first car-boat. Once it was done, he filled up his bathtub and let the invention out on the water. It floated! His idea really would work! Trent was so excited that he immediately began working on the real car-boat. Unfortunately, he was a bit delayed, because, in his excitement, Trent had an accident on the road and had to wait for a damaged car repair, before he could get all the pieces he needed.
It would be a car-boat that would drive along the highest mountains, on the steepest roads, and then transition seamlessly into the water. It would be one of the greatest inventions of all time. When everybody else saw how clever it was, they’d be asking him for one. Trent didn’t intend to share or sell his invention, though. No. It was his forever. With an engine that would work like a charm for boats and cars, and all the spare tyres he could possibly need, Trent was ready to give it a try.
Unfortunately, Trent was never seen again, so we don’t know whether it worked. However, it wouldn’t take a genius to guess that it didn’t.
Rowing boats? How am I supposed to write about rowing boats? And somehow I’ve got to combine it with car servicing? That’s ridiculous. They are two completely different forms of transportation. If Jen Randall (my boss) had asked me to write about logbook servicing or auto electrical work combined with something about car repair shops, I could totally do that. Somehow, I managed to write a few hundred words about chickens and renovations, but that was almost the end of me. I’m getting really sick of this randomly generated storytelling thing that we’ve started doing at my job. What happened to the good old days, where I could just write about whatever I wanted? Admittedly, the random generation idea was mine, because I was running out of ideas after several hundred stories, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!
Honestly, I’d rather be writing about nuts and bolts than rowing boats. I just find rowing so boring. I don’t know anything about it, so I can’t write about it, let alone find a way to connect it to a piece about a workshop offering car service close to Adelaide. I guess I’ll just have to ramble on about cars, boats and maybe some bolts until I hit my allotted word count. If I’m feeling particularly uninspired, maybe I’ll also throw in some random words about cats and mice being friends. That’s what Kathy drew out of the random story hat. Why can’t I write about a cat and a mouse who are best friends, on their way to get their engine serviced? I feel like that would be a pretty interesting story. Certainly, more interesting than a story about a guy who wants to go out rowing but can’t because his car is broken, so he is unable to get out to the water. How uninspired!
Anyway, I should probably get onto it. I’ve been procrastinating on social media all afternoon, but I think I’ve just seen one picture of bananas that are made to look like ducks too many.
Dear William Jr. If you are reading this, you should have just gotten the most wonderful log book service in Adelaide. Now, I require you to drive to New South Wales. I know geography was never your strongest subject in regular school, so that is the state above Victoria. If you want to take the next step toward your inheritance, you must get brake and clutch repair in Milperra. Once you have done that, the seal on the next letter shall be opened. Good luck.
I read the letter outside while waiting for the final touches on my car to be done. The trembling in my hands had finally stopped, but I couldn’t shake the ill-feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could the worst actually be true? Three auto workshops in three different states. That couldn’t be some sort of tax evasion scheme. Surely it wasn’t even money laundering. No, the truth was becoming clear. My billionaire father was once a working-class man.
The thought disgusted me, almost as foul as garlic to my senses. How could he have been a working-class peasant, when he had always claimed to come from a family with immense wealth? Admittedly, I’ve never actually been able to meet any of my family members, and there are no photos of them. But why would my father lie about his heritage?
Well, no matter how much I hate the thought, I need to travel to this Milperra mechanic and discover the truth. If my father truly did come from the working class, I have to discover why he hid it from me all these years.
So many years have I looked down on the peasants. And now I learn that I might be one of them. I shudder at the thought. Perhaps I should just get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible, and then I can move on, with my billions of dollars to comfort me as I absorb the entire thing.
– Will Hunter
I can’t believe I have been living in Ringwood for a year now. It has gone so quickly. I feel like I’ve seen so much of this town and yet so little of it. I’ve made lots of friends, yet I barely know anyone, when you consider how many people live here. I maybe know fifty people in Ringwood well, but the town has a population of over 17,000. That’s a lot of people!
I’ve always lived in this area, having grown up in a house in Mitcham, but I decided to move to Ringwood for a bit of a fresh start. I performed my first log book service in the Mitcham area, so it will always hold a special place in my heart. It’s the town I grew up in. I went to school there. I had my first date there. So many memories. But I needed a clean break. I had to move on from my childhood.
Inspired by a good mechanic around Ringwood that once serviced my car, I started working in that part of town, helping people with their car repair issues. It’s a fulfilling job, and I get to meet all sorts of interesting characters. Some are so colourful, so full of life. I have heard so many stories from the people I have met. I don’t think I would have had these experiences in Mitcham, so I’m glad I moved out. I really do like it so much more in Ringwood. Mitcham was a good place to grow up, but Ringwood feels more like a place where you can establish yourself, setting up for the rest of your life.
My parents wonder why I don’t want to move back to Mitcham. They’re in love with the place. They can’t see anything wrong with it and always ask why I moved away. It’s not like I moved interstate or anything. I’m ten minutes away from them! And there isn’t anything wrong with Mitcham, not really, but it wasn’t the place where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. I’m glad I made the decision to move. I’m settled in Ringwood now, and that’s just the way I like it.
I’m thinking the mission has too many mechanics. And I’m not just saying that because I already have a solid role in our new Lunar Kingdom, but it’s true: every single person who’s even hinted that they’ve worked on cars has been given a spot because of their mechanical expertise, and because of all the moon rovers we’ll be needing to get around.
Let’s all just put things in neutral for a second…we NEED people on the ground. What would happen if all of companies that offer car servicing near Bendigo suddenly up and left to the moon? Not only would the people of Bendigo not have anyone to fix their cars and provide servicing, but they wouldn’t be able to hear the word of the moon. Folks need to stay here, to spread the good news, point people to the moon and say “that’s where the new Lunar Kingdom will be. You can’t go there; no one but the elite can. But I’ll tell you all about it, and you can look. Won’t that be lovely?”
And of course, we need some very good mechanics. All sorts of moon-related mechanic work to do up there, so quality is going to be necessary. Imagine what’ll happen if there’s a head-on collision and the low gravity makes people fly hundreds of feet into the air and then land in a crater? Such unique situations, and we need people equipped to deal with them. And the air conditioning! Think of the radiation from the sun, and then tell me we don’t need skilled, experts in aircon regassing. Bendigo may be slightly depleted when we launch, especially if we take advantage of their robust space programme. But I’m okay with that. Because I’m going to the moon, and I have other stuff to worry about, sorry.