The shifty used car salesman who demanded cash for my “clean as a button” Civic must have know that, sooner or later, the car would try to kill me. The Button, as I came to call it, would pull such stunts as stalling on the entrance ramp to a highway and spinning merrily in the middle of a downpour to face oncoming traffic.
I’ve spent a stupid amount of money trying to fix the broken air-conditioning in this thing (which still isn’t working–grr!), but forcing me to sweat while the idiot lights flash on the dashboard–announcing the cars own slow, oncoming death–wasn’t enough for Button. On Monday, my CD player decided it was time to go off to that laser disc dance party in the sky–leaving me in silence.
No CD player, no CD books.
I am cheap as hell. Almost all my physical and audio books come from ye olde library. I could borrow audio books in an MP3 format (and listen to them with one of those snazzy tape converters in my car–high tech, I know), but I might need to wait longer for certain books to be available…and some I can only get in CD format.
So I took my old boom box, slapped some over-priced batteries inside, and voila! Ghetto books deluxe.
As I’m rolling to work with Ready Player One blasting in the cab (windows down), I am struck by how much of a nerd I am. Not necessarily a smart nerd–a terribly awkward nerd who’s desperate enough to hear the rest of a book that she will drive around with a boom box like an idiot and doesn’t care if the teenagers in the expensive SUV next to her are staring. It makes me feel this…sick sense of pride. Because screw the rest–the book is all that matters.
What desperate measures have you taken to finish a book? Tell all below!
Michelle Joyce Bond