Tuesday, August 7, 2012
It’s tough in L.A. when you are one of the only chicks who doesn’t drive a Lexus, or a Range Rover, or a BMW, or anything bright, shiny and expensive for that matter. But I was perfectly happy with my little white Jetta named Jorja (after Bret Micheal’s daughter….yes, I know, I know) until she started acting up on me a few months ago. The flat tires weren’t her fault and I never blamed her, those were caused by the bumpy L.A. streets and the pot holes that litter the roads. But anything that goes wrong inside the car, I blame Jorja. Obviously. So when my blinker just started blinked like it was going out of style, I was a little confused and a lot annoyed. You know that sound that you hear when you turn on your blinker? Yup, that’s the sound I hear randomly whenever Jorja wants me to. It comes out of the center console of the car and rocks out to its own beat. I have tried punching it, turning up my radio (thanks, Pop for that tip) and even avoiding using my blinker altogether. Nothing stopped it. It’s like I had that little frog from the Looney Tunes who sang “Hello my lady, hello my darling…..” living in my dashboard and he only came out in his little tap shoes to dance when he didn’t think I was looking. He will definitely hide when I take Jorja into the body shop and try to explain this elusive blinker sound coming from the center console of my car to the mechanic. I can hear him now, “Are you crazy Mama-cita?” So what’s the use? I will just turn up the radio and ignore that I have a constant blinker sound coming out of the dash…or just stop making turns altogether. I wonder how far that would get me? Thanks Jorja!