My grief-stricken memory is a bit fuzzy right now, but here is essentially all the shit that has been happening in the past few direful days.
I was in middle of mastering my time-waste kingdom, when my flat mate entered the realm to give me a letter. It was from the local police department and my initial thought was:
“Scheiße, I was assured that no one would miss the old man with the orca-shaped scar!”
Well, this is a story for another day, my friends, because in the letter I was informed about an accident my car was involved in. My mind was racing, yet I couldn’t remember anything. Did I commit a hit and run? This being the ultimate loathsome crime, I was actually wishing that they found the old orca-man instead. Mistkerl!
After studying the document more closely though it was clear that someone crashed into my car while it was parked in front of the flat.
I was puzzled. The accident happened three days before I got the letter, and I was daily driving my car as always during those days. Additionally I was even cleaning a part of the interior for nearly 1.5 hours the day after the supposed crash as promised here on Oppo:
I’m such a lazy f*ck. After the trip to Norway - when we basically will have lived two weeks in the car - I will - Oppo is my witness - clean up my car meticulously...
Although I was up close to the car I didn’t notice anything, so I was relieved because I assumed nothing too severe has happened.
Ford F-150?! I’ll be damned! Now this whole affair is getting really weird. My Boot was hit by a rare star-spangled-freedom-carriage and I overlooked the crater this primeval leviathan must have left in my delicate arrangement of German fine mechanics?
Finally I paused the World of Warships replay - apparantly I really do watch everything Youtube has to offer -, put down the coffee mug and went outside to investigate the citadel penetration. I found this:
He called the cops for this inanity? Did he not see the warzone that is the exterior of my bucket? A simple note would have been sufficient, don’t you think? Still, bless him and his honesty, right?
So why the clickbaiting title?
Get ready for the sad part of the story.
Apart from the vow I made to you guys I cleaned the whole interior to visit a body shop. Basically I wanted to make sure Das Boot looks as valuable as possible.
Here is the deal: I knowingly bought a rust bucket. Neither did I overlook this nor was I tricked into buying it. I mean you can’t miss the spots even if you’re clueless like me.
And I’m not completely stupid. Acknowledging that I am inexperienced, I paid an independent TÜV mechanic to take a thorough look at the car before I bought it. Of course he mentioned the exterior, but he told me that the car’s foundation has a future. I trusted his verdict and bought the Bimmer.
I only paid little money, needed the car quickly because winter was coming and with a trip to Norway I had basically just one specific task in mind a car had to fulfill. All this resulted in a purchase of a technically solid yet surely not perfect 520i. I didn’t mind since it wasn’t really meant to stay with me forever.
On the contrary my life is financially unstable at best which meant that I had to be able to part with any car without thinking too much about it when I wouldn’t be able to hold on to it any longer. While loving it was inevitable, getting as attached as I’m now was never part of the plan.
Still, I thought - and was assured by an independent mechanic, mind you - that the old girl would have the potential to soldier on as long as I’m willing to generously pour money and effort into it. Of course this meant adressing the rust. I already looked up spare parts like doors and fenders and was prepared to waste a good chunk of Euros as long as I’d be in control of the project and its steps.
So a few days ago I visited a body work specialist to talk actual numbers. He looked at the car for a fraction of a second and said: “There’s nothing you could do, it’s over!”
He explained to me that even if I was willing to spend an - in terms of value - unreasonable amount of money on it I’d just remedy the symptoms. There are pockets of resistance all over the place so a few years later the rust will inevitably return. And the forums I dug through seem to agree with his assessment.
I was mentally prepared to hear a hefty quote, but the futility of any potential effort came as a shock. Why didn’t the TÜV mechanic tell me that the car was doomed? I was paying him to be honest and to avoid exactly this kind of situation. He should have known, right?
In a world of 3D-printing and selfdriving cars my Boot is sentenced to death because a bit of sheet metal is impossible to fix without launching a ridiculously expensive restoration.
All this while the moving and exploding parts may have 150,000km more left in them with a bit of thoughtful maintenance. Hell, even a powertrain swap would be relatively easy if I found someone who is as passionate about the project as I am and willing to help out.
My engine is a peach, the interior still looks and feels nice and the technical issues I already told you about could be dealt with during a weekend spent in a barn. Sadly, all of this doesn’t change the fact that my Boot is sentenced to rot away. Not even a small scratch on the license plate is worth the effort to repair it anymore. What a nightmare this is.
The irony is painfully depressing. Before buying it and in the first few months of owning it I was afraid of falling into a financial abyss. I avoided to get really close with the bucket and didn’t individualise it - I didn’t bother with buying a key fob for example. Basically I was ready to get rid of it at any time. And now that I had my money’s worth of experiences and adventures with the car I can’t let it go. Instead I’m feeling the urge to throw myself into the abyss.
Who knows what’s awaiting me there? It might not be so bad?
What a bimmer...