@t3,05
@^@f09@t1@cRIFFRAFF : a true story




@f00@ta  It  was an early sunday morning and I
had  just  crept  out  of  my  warm and
secure bed, when my dad told me that he
had  just  seen  an absolutely nice car
for  me.   You  have to know that I was
badly  in  need  of  a  car those days,
because   all   my   friends   were  in
possession of one and I did not want to
be  the only one without.  Therefore, I
stepped  outside  to  go to the station
were my parents have seen it and, guess
what,  it was brilliant!  A tidy, white
little  Polo waited for me, blinking in
the    bright    sunlight,    seemingly
shouting:   "Release  me!   I  got  im-
prisoned  by  a mad mechanic, who wants
to  take  me to pieces." From this very
moment  I  was  quite assured, this was
@^




going to be my car and so I went to the
station  the  next day again to talk to
the owner.
  When  I  asked  him about the motor's
condition, he just said:  "Let's take a
ride and you'll see yaself, boy." Well,
there  was absolutely no need to repeat
this phrase and, guess what, it was not
that   brilliant.    The   very   first
problems    already    appeared    when
starting,  because  there was something
wrong  with  the  gear  lever and I was
told  to  start  the  car in the second
gear,  then  to change to the first and
later  to  go back to the second.  I do
not  know,  if you have ever started an
old  Polo in the second gear, but I can
really  tell  you  that only a vibrator
@#

@t3,05
@^@f00@tashakes  more  than this car when trying
it.   May  this be the reason why I did
not  manage  to make it work?  Probably
we   will   never   know,  because  the
friendly   man  next  to  me  violently
pushed   the  lever  into  the  desired
position  and with a fully opened choke
we stuttered away.
  While  driving, the owner told me, he
was going to fix the lever this evening
so  everything  should  be  alright the
next  day.   "Well,"  I  replied,  "why
don't  you  fix  this tachometer, too?"
Indeed it was not working at all.  "Oh,
yes  ...   ," he started, but I was not
finished  then:  "...  and you'd better
check  the  wheels, this car definitely
likes the right side of the street more
than the left one."
  The  next  day,  however,  everything
just  seemed  to  be fixed and two days
later  I  became  the  proud owner of a
car.   As soon as possible I started my
@^first  little trip to a friend of mine.
When   I   arrived   there   I  smelled
something  quite  strange,  but did not
make   up  my  mind  about  it.   After
arriving   back  at  home,  however,  I
realized   that  I  had  forgotten  the
handbrake.   My  father  - former motor
mechanic   -   looked   at  me  with  a
destroying  fire  in  his  eyes,  while
doing  his best to protect the car from
permanent   damage  -  and  I  felt  so
small...
  A  few  days  later, I had the strong
feeling that it was about time to clean
and  wash  my  car  a bit.  After three
buckets   of  black  water  I  got  the
impression  that the former owner never
had  washed  the  car before, because I
only  cleaned  the  car inside - not to
mention   the  body  and  the  windows!
Otherwise,   this  old  machine  worked
pretty   well   and  I  really  enjoyed
driving   around,   wasting   fuel  for
@#

@t3,05
@^@f00@tanothing.   At  least until I had to buy
some gasoline from my own money.  Well,
I  never wasted a thought about what it
means  to  fill  up  an  empty tank and
therefore one week of asketic living to
save money was the sad result.
  This  was about that time, when I got
my    hifi-equipment   for   the   car,
consisting    of   one   old   set   of
loudspeakers    and   an   even   older
cassette-  player.   Now, I was able to
enjoy my favourite music while driving,
but  sadly  not  for very long, because
RiffRaff's  -  the  name  of  the car -
battery seemingly did not like my music
and  therefore  it  decided  to strike.
Bad  language,  warnings  and tears did
not  convince  it  to start working and
again   my   father  had  to  spend  an
afternoon with RiffRaff.  This time his
eyes  flashed  even  more angrily and I
also felt smaller...
  To  cut  a long story short, RiffRaff
@^means  nothing but trouble to me:  I am
nearly out of money, my mother tells me
all  the  time that it was a mistake to
buy  it,  my  father is near to a heart
attack, my cousin is laughing at me and
RiffRaff's  carburettor  seems  to lose
oil.   I  think  it  would be the right
thing to sell this waste of metall, but
I   will   not   do  it.   No,  I  will
definitely  not sell him, because he is
brilliant!

                      @t4>>> @t6RokDaZone @t4<<<
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