Ice Aging
It was snowing as usual. I had my windshield wipers going at warp speed. In my head the voice of
Scotty was saying, "She can't take much more of this captain," in his fake Scottish accent. Me and Minni
Me were hurtling through the snow on our way home from school.
A blue Ford Fairlane shitbox from the Mannix show is in front of me, being driven by this
chain-smokin', ticket scratching, Elvis is not dead, sideburn guy. He slams on his brakes for some
unknown reason, (probably dropped his Marlboro on his balls) -so I have to slam on my brakes too.
The eight foot long giant glacier on top of my van, slides forward. This ton of solid ice, which I had
failed to remove, slides over my windshield like a big white garage door closing in front of me. It rips
the right windshield wiper right off the van! Seeing this, the left windshield wiper becomes furious and
valiantly decides to fight the attacking glacier alone.
It is no match for the giant glacier. There is a snap, then a jet like roar, as the eight foot slab of ice
continues sliding forward over the windshield, and explodes on the street in front of me creating a
small wall of ice. The car behind me beeps.
The injured left windshield wiper is now facing outward, away from the van diagonally, waving
goodbye to Mannix. It is joined by it's amputated brother as it "gives him the finger" with it's feeble
nub. -Back and forth-back and forth- back and forth...
The next day, it was snowing as usual. I had no windshield wipers. But I must drive to get them fixed. I
somehow make it to the garage where my favorite mechanic works.
His name is Koo. He's the best mechanic I've ever seen. I trust him more than my doctor. I love this guy.
The problem is; I can't understand a friggin' thing he says, because he's Vietnamese. I usually get about
one out of every four words.
I pull in with a giant cup of coffee for him, (all mechanics love that), and the conversation goes
something like this:
'HI KENNEE! HOW YOU?"
"GOOD KOO! (Yes that's his name) "How are ya? Did you have a nice holiday?" ( Not knowing which
holiday I might be referring to)
"OH YA I HAB BEDDY NIE TIE BUM FUCKEEN BUSY. LOTTA CAH DISK TIME YEAH!"
I just shake my head, smile and hum a little as I sip my coffee, as if I have any frigging idea what he
just said.
"WUH YOU POBLEM AH YOU VAN NOW?" Koo asks.
I begin speaking slowly rephrasing everything I say twice, in order to give Koo a second chance at
understanding it. Somewhere in the explanation of the glacier and the amputations, I realize that I'm
doing some sort of automotive Hula-Dance, using my hand gestures to draw pictures of imaginary
windshield wipers, and making glacial movements with my body.
"Koo sips his coffee thinking about what a fucking idiot I am.
He feels sorry for me because I am retarded, says something about a duck (I think) and drops
whatever he was doing, and begins working on my car. I love this guy!
Turns out that the whole wiper motor mechanism is stripped, the pin is sheared, he has to weld some
shit, drill some other shit, take the hood off, perform open heart surgery, and check my hernia. this
takes about two hours. During this time Koo smokes constantly and continues to talk to me, and I smile
and pretend to understand what the fuck he might be saying. He has the swears down. He's good with
the swears. I understand the swears, and they sound great, even more filthy with that accent.
So when he swears, I swear too. This way we're really communicating. The screwdriver slips. He
bangs his knuckles.
"YOU MUDDAFUCKAHCOCKSUCKAH!" he yells.
To show him I'm on his side, I yell, "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
He looks at me like I'm soft, shakes his head and says something else about a duck.
Now the owner of the place comes in.[Jimmy the asshole]
"KOO! When are you gonna be finished with that f***in' sable on the lift over there? The guy's coming
back for it at three. Is it gonna be ready for him or what?"
"IT BE READY!" KOO barks, flicking his cigarette in Jimmy's direction.
"Well, for chrisakes, you been workin' on that f***in' windshield wiper for three f***kin' hours now."
KOO explodes, "JIMMEE! I WORKA HIS CAR NOW! YOU GET A FUCK OUTTA HEAH! STOP BUSSA MY BALL!
YOU MUDDAFUGGACOCKSUGGAH!"
The owner storms back out.
His son comes in about two minutes later.
"KOO! You gonna marry that f***in' thing? How long is it gonna be?"
KOO throws his hammer down, "YOU SHUT F*** UP! WHY YOU NO MARRY? YOU QUEER! I SEE YOU AT
BEACH, YOU MARRY YOU LEFF HAND! STOP BUSSA MY BALL!"
I'm thinking, "Oh great! Now Koo's gonna lose his job because I was too lazy to clear the snow off my
van."
Now Koo is pissed. The owner's pissed, the son is pissed, and I'm feeling guilty.
Koo says a bunch of shit I can't understand, and points at the van.
I don't know what to say back to him, so I just stand there with a blank stare. Just call me corky.
Speechless.
He tries again to explain something to me again, and I'm trying real hard to get it, but I haven't got a
f***ing clue what he's saying to me.
Was a duck involved? I have no idea. I think so.
I don't wanna ask him to repeat it, because he looks so pissed off and he's got that hammer, and he
might know Karate or something.
He goes to the back of the garage mumbling in some language, and gets a parts book. He starts writing
something on a greasy piece of paper. He hands me the paper.
"YOU GO NOW KENNEE" he says, dancing the automotive go-away hula-dance."YOU GO STORE. YOU
GET PART. I FIX UDDAH CAH STUFF UP JIMMEE ASS! MUDDAFUGGACOCKSUGGAH!"
So I went to the parts store, paid in advance for the part that they didn't have. It's been three days now.
Still waiting.
It's supposed to snow.
As usual.
-Corky