My Car vs. Rationality

My life has occasional episodes of bizarre perversity where nothing happens in quite the way I've come to expect. Today was another one of those episodes, this one involving my car.

I have a '98 Mercury Tracer, which is quite probably the most universally average car that has ever existed. It's not really old, but neither is it new. It's reasonably reliable, but occasionally it has upsets when it needs repairs, which are neither cheap nor fiendishly expensive. It's not especially fast, nor especially efficient. It goes. That's about all you can say for it.

On the 29th of last month I took it in for repairs and, yes, it was more expensive than I really wanted while not being more than I could possibly afford. Again, average.

Then disaster struck! My car started making noises. In particular, the brakes were clacking and the engine noise was quite loud and obnoxious. In a storm of righteous indignation I returned to the garage where I expounded upon my misfortune.

Well, they checked it out and apparently nothing was wrong, so I trundled my way sheepishly out of their establishment. However, the engine noise, at least, remains, leaving me to guess that it is supposed to sound like that.

I can only conclude from this experience that my car, contrary to all sense, is quieter when it is broken.