the adventures of tadpole-x & jean-2

I've had it with the car. Months wasted in doing nothing about the car. I simply can't get the appointment because Mon-Fri is just not possible. After all, a Gen2 is just anoter Proton. I will no nothing special to the car. My plans will be put aside when I get a better ride.

So, to all my readers out there... this is me signing off. I'll leave this space up but will not update frequently. Thanks for your support over the months. Ciao!

After a long hiatus, I'm finally back to update. But then, there's not much to update. For the whole of bloody August I was tired up with many things, professional and personal. At the moment, here's my to-do list for September:

1) Send Jean to COE to do park break test/solution
2) Send Jean to MoSpeed to to change oil sump. (Yeah, there were some leakage which will take over night to fix)
3) Send Jean to MoSpeed to change motor for power window.

All in all, I hope to finish everything in 3 days...though it does not seem likely. But its time now that I can afford. I'm going all-out, fulltime freelance! I'm so going to suffer for the next month - cash-wise.

So, if any of you readers have got some writing jobs for me, do let me know. All kinds of writing. You needs words, I have words. Heh.

I was wondering the status of my brakes-issue since I last reported it to Proton iCARE. Lo and behold, Leena from iCARE called me yesterday about 11am to confirm if there was a technician came and checked Jean-2. I flatly told her that the only time I checked the brakes was at MoSpeed, and Mr. Ooi and a mechanic whose name I did not get attended to me.

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"Oh. So En. Mohammad adviced you to refer to the owner's manual that says you have to engage 1st gear if the car is facing uphill and reverse if facing downhill", Leena remarked.

"Wait", I replied. "There was no En. Mohammad saw me and told me those things. The only time a technician checked was at MoSpeed on the same day I submitted my complaint."

"Ah. That is En. Mohammad!" I wondered how she knew is name since I don't think she ever laid eyes on him.

"I don't think so. The technician / mechanic that attended to me was Chinese. I don't think his name is En. Mohammad."

"Oh...so no one came to see you from Proton?", Leena asked.

"Nope."

"But my report says that En. Mohammad did see you and checked your brakes.", Leena insisted.

"There was no such person named En. Mohammad came to see me, nor did anyone checked my brakes other than those in MoSpeed. And I do not appreciate that there was a false report made by your side! I don't think this is legal to do so!", I stated.

=SILENCE=

"Uh...in that case, Mr. Christopher, let me call you back. I'll check with the Warranty Department. And then I'll call you back.", Leena replied meekly.

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I'm really getting frustrated. First, no news from them for over 3 weeks then suddenly, an alleged person saw me about my brakes? Was there another Gen.2 owner facing the same problem as me? I didn't care. I just want Proton to solve this problem. Sheesh. It's just brakes dammit!

And then Leena called again, somewhere after lunch...

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"Ok. Mr. Christopher. I need you to bring your Gen.2 in so that our technicians can have a look at it. So when are you free?", Leena asked.

I looked over the calendar and my schedule. Let's see...I have a new campaign coming up so I'll take the weekend. No brainer right? "This Saturday".

"Saturday cannot-la. We work only 5 days a week which means our technicians also work 5 days a week." I can almost hear the snigger in Leena's voice.

"So this means I have to take one day off from my (precious) annual leave just to get it fixed? Why not on Saturday where most working people are free?"

"Cannot-la sir. Weekday only."

"I have to call you back. I need to check my schedule also." I grumbled.

"Ok. But please let me know soon. You must tell me in advance because sometimes the day you choose the technicians is busy.", Leena said. My inner voice telling me that she's saying, "Nah. Ambik ni. Kacau aku terimalah padah. Nyahahahahaha!"

"Ok. I'll call you back.", I sighed.

---

But I already knew the answer. The ad campaign must go out first before I can do anything to my car. I don't think the company will ever give me leave on account of my safety or the protection of my (useless) "investment". But what can I do. I'm a, how the Japanese would put it, Sarariiman, or Salary-Man.

And more on the brakes issue, my front brake pads are wearing out fast! I can already here screeching noises from my brakes. Damn. I suspect that I have to go down a steep hill everyday just to get home. So obviously my pads are wearing out fast. Good thing I learnt not to brake in corners or else I'd be rubbing metal against metal. The cost of the pads, RM130++. Its a whole lot of money.

I think I'm going to cry / vent rage now.

Yeah. This is how things will look like in the near future. Always wanted to put up links and setup the pics nicely. Though I don't have a bloody digital camera. Urgh. But well...this is how the future looks like.

Christine-wise. No updates. She's been a good girl recently. Running like clockwork. Not usual. But still, I think she quit trying to kill me. I am compelled to rename her Jean-2...but. But I'll see how the rest of the week holds.

Over the weekend, Christine and I had to ferry colleagues from Singapore. It was the first time they here for a visit to the KL office that we, the KL-siders had to be gracious host. Those with personal modes of transportation WILL ferry at least 5 of them. No problem. Having seafood in Tropicana. No problem. The journey there. Problem. A HUGE ONE.

Thanks to Mr.-Logistico, Mr.-Very-Near-and-Easy-To-Get-There, a grand total of 5 vehicles (2 MPVs, 2 Minicars and Christine) decided to do a convoy. Nevermind. So he took the Penchala Link. Had to bloody pay RM2 for a BLOODY SHORT STRETCH OF BLOODY ROAD! OOI! Nevermind. We turned into Kota Damansara and started what I think was a 'scenic' journey. 'Scenic' becuase for awhile, I don't know where we were. Then it BLOODY DAWN ON ME. The seafood place was located beside Tropicana Golf Course. OOI! WASTED PETROL! WASTED TOLL FARE! WASTED TYRE! THERE'S A FUCKIN' SHORTER WAY HERE YOU LOOSER! WHO YOU WANNA IMPRESS? THE BIG BALLS OF A GAY BOSS! UP YOURS! AND, TO GET UP THERE I HAVE TO BLOODY CLIMB CHRISTINE UP A 90DEGREE SLOPE FILLED WITH HIDDEN SPEED BUMPS AND BOULDERS! FUCKER! TELL ME NEXT TIME WHERE WE'RE HEADED! I'VE GOT PJ MAPPED IN MY HEAD! FUCKER!... ... ...and the food sucks.

Nevermind...I really wanted to leave that time. After the 6th course of a 8+1 course dinner. +1 because someone is trying his erectest to impress the boss. Fucker.

Now...going down hill was a bit, bit scary. Remember that 90 degree hill? Yeah, I have to scale down it with 5 guys and their rounded bellies. So I was going down a little faster than I intended. But hey, I stopped at the junction in time. In time for the Kancil (the car) to be like its animal counterpart, Kancil (mousedeer) is ran over. The driver froze and looked at me with wide, beady eyes. And that, my dear readers, is the highlight of the night.

In conclusion (hehehe...like an ass-ay), I wished I did not go for the lacklustre dinner and tasteless drinks afterwards. Then I would be so sick that I could not join my buddies on track. But why did I went? My job was depending on it. Believe it or not. Getting fired and not fired depends on me attending the dinner. Free food. Free drink. What have I got to lose? Just the millions of what-ifs now playing in my head.

What if I went to Sepang?

What if I drove on track?

What would I do if I spin out?

What would I do to gloat if I passed the 280ZX, MR2 or Satria GTi on the straights?

What would I do to gloat if I passed the 280ZX, MR2 or Satria GTi on the turns?

What if some professional racing team, impressed with my natural born talent, decide to sign me up to be their driver?

All unanswered because I HAD to go for the damn dinner. Damn.

I was driving home late last night and was on the road leading to my home. All was well when suddenly a cat, white with black spots decided to run in front of my car. I don't know what possessed it becuase I could've sworn it looked at me first before committing suicide. A young one too that cat.

So, I did what any driver would do. Brake and brake hard I did. I heard *thuck* then *squishlat* followed by two *thub* *thub* and my tyres locked and skidded for awhile. Ok. I ran over a cat. My favourite animal. A cute kitty, killed. By me. Meow. Christine came to a complete stop. I didn't know what to do that time. After what seemed like centuries, I decided to pull up my driveway, it's just a few houses down anyway.

I got out of the car and proceeded to the crime scene. A hit and run. One dead kitty. One very dead kitty. As I was walking, I noticed what looked like intestine, or a liver. But whatever it was, it's from the cat. Or so I thought. As I got near the alleged scene, no carcass. No dead kitty. Nothing. There was blood earlier, and my tyre skid marks. But no cat.

Nada. No cute, but very dead kitty. Nothing.

I know I hit that cat. I know I ran over it. Twice. I saw the blood. The tyre marks. I was prepared to bury the cat. But there was no cat to be buried! So what happened?

Of course, I immediately thought of Christine's failed attempt to feast on me. In her bloodlust-filled power, she must've projected herself as a very fat, juicy mouse. A nice morsel to wash down the tinned cat food. I looked at the roadside too, under the cars justs in case the cat ricocheted off my bumper, slid under a nearby car and fell into the drain. No cat.

So there's just one explaination left. Christine ate the cat. Clean. No bones or fur. I guess she's efficient in that way, not wasting any food. But still! Is there no end to her bloodtthirst? Can blood now be another substitute for petrol?

I think there are two options open for me now. 1.: To stock up on fresh meat. 2.: To perform a cleansing ritual to exorcise the evil from her. At the moment. I'm bewildered. And, afraid.

Yeah. She’s no longer Jean-2. I’ve renamed her Christine, after the book by Stephen King. Why? She’s developed a blood-thirsty habit, and decided that I’d spill the first blood. Let me recount the events for you.

I took ‘Christine’ to her regular 20,000km service. It’s her first major service where most things in there will be replaced. Spark plugs, air filter and the like. I brought her home straight from the service centre, feeling quite satisfied. More so because of Gerak Gen2 held earlier that upgraded my Jean-2…I mean Christine. After the service, she was a dream to drive. She feels brand new. Newer than the day I drove her off the showroom floor.

I decided to take her home and give her a good loving. Wash and wax. Like the usual, I parked her inside the driveway, which is a slight incline. Got out and closed the gates. Then I took a walk-round her, just to admire her a bit. Then it happened.

Just as soon as I stepped away from her rear, she decided to slip down the driveway. She took out the front gates and pulled to a stop in the middle of the road. I turned to see her, fearing she eats children and cats on her way down. Or bullies a car or 2. Lucky none of that happened. Then I looked to her and saw her eyes staring down me. I approached her with trepidation. As I got close, I saw that her park-brakes were up. I had to unlock just to get inside too.

I checked everything inside, really and found nothing wrong. I decided not to give her a wash and parked on a flat surface. Didn’t touch her till Monday morning when I took her back to the service center.

The mechanics did check her out. But there wasn’t a fault. Everything is where it should be. So, the only explanation was, Jean-2 is now Christine. A car, possessed to get rid of me so I won’t get rid of her. It’s like that with women sometimes…no?

Oh, why I want to get rid of her? Not satisfied. Giving me too much headaches, and heartaches. I saw this little Swift and thought it was a good replacement. Jean…Christine must’ve felt it. And decided to take me out. One clean blow.

Well, too bad. I’m still here writing. The fracas earned her a few dents and the gate bent. And me, I have lost confidence is driving her. Just when I thought she was getting better, she goes psycho on me.

Sad. I am. I’ve given so much time and love. I stood by her while she’s facing all her problems. Slowly nurse her back. Sigh…it’s been three days since and I’ve lodged a report to Proton. They’re yet to get back to me.

On the home side, Christine is still now back to normal. But still…I don’t know when she’ll pounce on me again. Wish me luck, people.