A letter to the reclining mechanism in my Volkswagen

Dear Volkswagen Passat Seat Reclining Mechanism,

I know that this isn’t really your fault.

I knew that I would hate you.

I knew it from the moment I test drove you.

I have had a horrible back for years and I knew that I needed to adjust the position of my car seat often to alleviate the pain that can happen while driving.

I knew that the sheer WEIRDNESS of having a FREAKING WHEEL THAT YOU HAVE TO PAINFULLY CRANK FOR AGES BY HAND TO GET YOUR SEAT TO RECLINE EVEN A TINY BIT instead of a lever was one of the most asinine things that I have ever seen in a vehicle in my 34 years.

And yet?

I purchased you.

This is what happens when you go against your inner instincts and give in to the pushing and judgment of a bearded guy who goes around with the title of “husband”.

My bad.

Still.

I want you to know that I suffered mightily because of you today.

By the end of my hours of being trapped in you with that medieval torture device that passes for seat reclining, my back was in spasms. It didn’t help that the fetus I am gestating mistook my awkward shifting to get comfortable as a sign that he was being crushed to death and he flailed, twisted, turned and punched out every organ and pulled muscle in my abdomen in protest of my positioning.

At one point I think my cervix fell out.

I made it home, but remain disgruntled.

And when I am disgruntled I write letters of protest! Angst!! Indignation!!! (I also call aforementioned bearded guy with the title of “husband” and remind him in no uncertain terms what a totally NOT RAD choice he pushed for in car purchasing.)

So there you are, Volkswagen Passat.

I hope you’re happy.

Because I?

AM NOT.

Kisses,

The chick who was stupid enough to buy you

P.S. Whoever DESIGNED that freaking stupid wheel system? Should be drug into the streets and beaten.

P.P.P.S. And shot.

P.P.P.P.S. And run over by a tractor.

P.P.P.P.P.S Then peed on by the guy driving the tractor.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. And subjected to a slow and bumpy ambulance ride to the hospital on a one lane dirt road.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. That is full of pot holes.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. And then be forced to use A WHEEL to adjust their damn hospital bed while they are laying in full body traction.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S Karma can be a real bitch but sometimes using her as a key player in violent day dreams can be awesome.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. If you see my cervix, could you send it back please? I probably need it.