The Will to Repair

Upon leaving work Monday evening, I came upon a car on the side of Central Avenue that had broken down. The owner, a heavy set black lady, had opened the hood and was staring at the engine. I immediately felt empathy. All the times I'd been behind the wheel of a clunker that suddenly broke down. All the times I'd popped the hood and gazed at the motor. As if I could stare it back to life. I once kept an old jalopy in the backyard. Nearly every day I'd open the hood and stare at the engine. It only started once: the day a scrapper came to haul it away. He asked me if I might be able to pull it past the back porch because his tow truck was quite wide. "Sure," I said. Darn thing started right up. I guess it was as glad to be rid of me as I was it.

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This message is from a Virgin Mobile customer. Enjoy.