Maybe it was the look on Prime’s face. Maybe it was the way he sighed when I spoke to him. Maybe it was a combination of both. Maybe it was neither. I can’t say. But I knew something was wrong when Prime arrived to pick me up from work tonight. Something bad.
Remember that problem I talked about a while ago? About the car? About how there comes a point where it makes more sense to buy another one, rather than repair the older one?
We may have reached that point. Scamper’s developing more and more issues. They seem to be getting worse. And far more numerous. So Prime said that he’ll have to do the adult thing and skip HasCon. He doesn’t want to do this, but we have no other choice in the matter. Going wouldn’t be responsible, not with Scamper in such a bad way.
So yeah, no convention for either one of us. Yay.
I’ve already had a good cry about this. And by “this”, I mean the car. I’m not that upset about missing HasCon; it sounded like a real cluster to me. But the idea of saying goodbye to Scamper has me heartbroken. This is the same little car that earned an Autobot sigil for protecting me during an accident. I walked away with nary a scratch. Scamper took the hit–and it was a bad one–in the passenger wheel well. It was bad enough to make me wonder if he could ever be repaired.
Thankfully, we were able to get him fixed. I’ll never forget that night when I saw him in the parking lot of my Wal-Mart, how I ran up to him and hugged him, I was so happy.
Like I said, he earned that Autobot sigil. It feels like a betrayal, even thinking about getting another car. Like I said, I’ve had a good cry about this.
As for the convention, there’s always next year. As for the car? I might be begging Prime for a yellow Beetle. If I’m going to replace the irreplaceable, then it better damn well be replaced with Bumblebee. Because that’s the only way to dry my tears at this point.