It’s a beautiful summer day. My husband and I are on our way to buy a new car. The old Passat grumbles and groans as we dare to let it go. With a terrible noise in the engine area we roll backwards down the driveway.
“Shit cart!” Does my husband curse? “I have to change the spark plugs afterwards.” I think if I got 10 cents for each time he says so, then we could use that money to hire a garage. The spark plugs have been causing problems for three months now. They probably only consist of charred stubs.
Well, he would change her later. Haha! I know for certain that he would not change her, and with every sound the poor old Passat makes my husband would curse and scream. “You can not do anything with these modern vehicles anymore!” he grumbles. Modern vehicles? The car is already 12 years old. I keep my mouth shut as my husband gives me an endless talk about rip-offs called VW and stupid fucking carts. Why did not even invent a car that could change the spark plugs themselves. By remote control or something. Ah yes, very resourceful.
We reach the main road. A car comes from the left. We have to wait. “The whole world is on the way again!” My husband curses loudly and gives the driver of the other vehicle a bitter look. I sink a bit deeper into my seat. “Where do they all want to go?” I look around. On the other side of the road is a moped. Otherwise, I can not find anyone far and wide. My husband gives me a talk about people who should stay home if they have nothing to do.
The first traffic light. She is red. “That stupid fucking city!” my husband yells and brakes abruptly. He probably did not see the red traffic light, which was already red at a distance of half a kilometer, in time. “All the traffic lights in this shitty city are against us, they’re just waiting for us to turn red.” The sad thing is that he actually believes what he said. He gives the old granny, who has slowly crossed the street, a bitter look. It does not run faster, but I sink even deeper into my seat. The Passat moans as we accelerate. I’ll have to change the spark plugs after that! Everything you have to do yourself in this fucking country. ” That these spark plugs were not indestructible either. Annoying!
A small traffic jam comes towards us. Oh no, I cry inwardly, please continue. “Keep driving!” My husband screams so loud at the same moment that my eardrum bursts with a small pitiful sound. My husband gives the driver of the vehicle in front of us a scowling look and waving wildly with his short arms. The driver looks bored and somehow compassionate in the rearview mirror. He does not continue. How then too. A truck is in front of him. I’m sinking even deeper into my seat. My husband continues his lecture on the whole world, which is currently on its way to annoy him.
Finally! We approach the first dealership. Five hundred meters in front of it is a parking lot free. My husband is not interested in the fact that there are tons of free parking spaces right in front of the dealership. As soon as he drives into this car park to accept the offer of the car dealership, all other people in the world drive to this parking lot to park there and annoy him , In addition, could already park a vehicle there. Then we would have found no room on the remaining hundred and twenty square meters.
After we had gone ten minutes we arrive at the first car dealership. “All inferior buggies!” my husband curses. The owner of the car dealership, which stands right next to us, gives us a piqued look. Helpless I look around but unfortunately there is no seat in which I can sink. So I act as if I did not belong to him, my husband. “Elli come, we’re going somewhere else, all overpriced here” he roared plan failed. Crap! I give the owner of the dealership an apologetic look.
Ten minutes later we reached our poor old Passat. He does not want to start. That too. My soul starts to cry bitterly when I see my husband jumping screaming and wildly on the street, kicking the car over and over again. The whole world, which was on the way to annoy us, drives past us. Sees me crying, sees my husband jumping around and wondering what strange people there are. I sink deep into my seat.
After a few attempts, at which I expected at any moment that the engine block crashes into the street with a huge explosion, he finally jumps up, the poor old Passat. 10 years had now held these spark plugs. Why did they just give up the ghost right now. 10 years full of promise that they would be changed later.
Finally we roll again on the street. The same procedure is repeated on this day about ten times. After we scoured thirty more dealerships and insulted a total of 40 dealership owners to the death, because the vehicles they dared to offer were either too modern, the wrong color or had inferior names such as VW, Opel, BMW or Mercedes, we found finally a car that seemed to please my husband. Indeed! It has the right color, almost the right age, almost the right mileage and only ten scratches in the paint. An old Citroen! My husband always wanted to drive a Citroen. After a long pardon, he agrees to buy the Citroen. However, under one condition: “You have to compare the prices!
Nachdem wir also zwei Monate später sämtliche Autohäuser in ganz Schleswig-Holstein abgeklappert hatten (es gibt eine halbe Millionen Autohäuser in Schleswig-Holstein), um uns zu vergewissern, dass es keinen besseren Wagen als diesen Citroen gibt, kaufen wir ihn. Der Passat fällt mit einem letzten Stöhnen auseinander, bevor wir ihn zum Schrottplatz fahren können. Sechs verkohlte Zündkerzenleichen rollen über die Straße.
We drive the Citroen now a year. He starts badly in winter, which is because he has a choke that my husband can not handle. “I did not want that bastard, I said we had to keep looking around, but you had to buy the first one, now we’ve got the shit!” My husband curses and forces the Citroen to forcefully attack. The engine is howling menacingly. My husband throws a random look at a randomly passing neighbor. I sink deeper into my seat.