Timmy Gets Another Date

That little car of mine should probably be named John instead of Timmy. He's getting a lot of action this week, but all of it is attention that's being paid for.

Earlier he had a date with a locksmith who was able to open his trunk for the first time in recorded history. The inside was clean, but contained nothing noteworthy or, to my regret, valuable. I promptly filled it with some assorted car goodies, which I'm putting off using, but there's still room for some small presents.

This morning, to my surprise, I felt strong and confident enough to admit I can't install the new convertible top that I bought from the previous owner, who was also smart enough not to try to put it on himself. I drove over to a tiny place that's been in my neighborhood all my life that advertises seat belt installation and auto upholstery. I've long felt it must be a mafia front, mostly because in all the years it's been around I've never seen anyone actually getting any work done there.

But, it was a mystery I could extend no longer.

My concerns going in were twofold: How much of an idiot would I look like asking them to install a convertible top that I had but couldn't put on myself? Second, and more important, the existing top doesn't latch tight, which means I can't put it up if it rains.

I parked my little car in the back and was astonished to see some guy actually working on a car, if by "working" you include "using a vacuum." I walked around to the front and was immediately met by an older man who spoke English with, to my delight, an Italian accent. I explained my plight, but left out that I can't secure the top in the shut position, and he quoted me a price to install my supplied top. As it turned out, much to my relief, he says a lot of people buy tops and can't install them.

He went out to look at, or mock, my car, and was concerned about the existing top failing to move that last inch it would need to if it were to be locked in place. I was too, and by then I was out of secrets and started feeling quite nervous. He thought, maybe, the top that was on there (in spite of the rips and complete lack of a rear window, which I'd cut out) may be too tight to allow the frame to move as far as it needs to. We ended up thinking it had possibly shrunk from years of neglect, but he wants me to bring Timmy back in tomorrow when his convertible top specialist can give it a look.

Then, if things are acceptable, sometime next week Timmy can have his new top installation appointment.

It's possible that if they take the old top off they can see if the frame will fasten, but I won't know that until tomorrow at the earliest. This little auto upholstery place doesn't work on convertible top frames, so I'm not sure yet how much trouble I'm in.

Today it would behoove me to wash and wax Timmy, who the owner called a "toy," but I'm too busy sulking to think of doing anything productive.