You might remember a few days ago, when I spoke about how my car was due for new registration? Well as it turns out, registering a car isn't as easy as just paying the bill. Not that that's even easy in my case, seeings as my bill was over $600, and I'm broke as a joke after spending all my money on vodka and facial piercings.
Anyway, before you even think about forking almost two weeks rent over to the sadistic bitches at AAMI, you have to undergo this whole 'Registration Check' thing to make sure the car is actually roadworthy. Not a big deal. Fortunately for me, my mechanic (having known Mum and Dad for years) is practically part of the family. Unfortunately for me, my car looks like this:
The absence of front wheels can be a bit of a hinderance. On the plus side though, I never have to deal with the inconvenience of opening a car door.
So anyway. Long story short, I stayed at Mum and Dad's last night for dinner, and also because our mechanic is right across the road from their house and only performs rego checks between 7 and 8 o'clock in the morning. Obviously, he is a crazy person. Not just because of the whole 'early morning rego check' situation. But also because by some miracle, he decided to pass my car for registration. What?! I can say with complete honesty I have no idea how that happened. And I didn't stick around to find out; I just got the heck out of there before this dude realised my little Barrina was made out of cardboard and changed his mind.
'My Mechanic Is An Idiot', is what I'm calling this story. Either that or, 'Show Enough Cleavage And You Can Get Whatever You Need'.