Sir Coy and I.. Inseparable

We must've been match-made in heaven, because despite all the troubles we've been through (or rather: all the troubles HE made me into), we eventually stay together.

Sir Coy (read: Choy), my ten year old, ugly looking Plymouth Grand Voyager, was missing from the parking lot when I was just about to go to office. At first I thought I had gone to the wrong section. Then after spending half an hour searching through the lot, frantic calls to the towing company, and heart beating faster than a drunken Schumacher, I gave up and let the security people survey the area. About an hour later they called me to confirm that it was INDEED missing. I was already a bit calm and therefore could file a report to the police quite articulately.


That was on Friday. Saturday morning, the police from the neighbor county phoned me to inform that Sir Coy had been found. I had thought that it would take longer before they finally locate him. Impressive. And has become a source of speculation among my friends. Sir Coy's less than attractive physique, and his diplomatic tag, should've been a turn off to most car thieves (police will identify him in a second). None of us could think of a logical explanation of his temporary disappearance.

Anyway, how he found his way home isn't the most important thing. It's the fact that we are finally together that makes me think that -- whether we like it or not -- we are each other's destiny. Since the beginning of my owning him, he'd cost me some repairs at the sum which, I figure, has exceeded his actual value. That's the way it goes with old cars, American old cars, to be exact. Two times his engine just stopped, one time I drove recklessly I hit the road block, and several other minor things, all in a short span of two years.

Maybe I'm a freak. Maybe because he's my very first own car. But his imperfection, his scars, his making me almost broke with the constant visits to the garage (and the beloved Mr. Lee, practically our "family doctor") are probably also the reasons that strengthen our bond. Like the most vulnerable child in the family, he demands my full-time attention, yet I love him deeply. I know that I'll be saddened when I have to say goodbye to him next year as my assignment is concluded.

And I'm glad that we still have eleven months of togetherness. What can I say? He completes me :).