Wes' POV
Cars shouldn't be so hard to f*****g fix, I'd decided, feeling like an utter f*****g moron in the middle of the street. There was something very wrong with American engineering if a car was this hard to fix on your own, for the everyday man who did not go to mechanic school. Trade school. Wherever.
“You're not even American, are you Giselle?" I said, glaring at the stupid BMW with her lovely detailing. “I'm pretty sure you're German, you salty whore."
And now I was talking to my car like it was actually a person like some type of madman. Great. Brilliant.
Could this day get any worse?
The family reacted poorly when I hadn't brought Eva with me to the interview. It would have made for a wonderful debut and let the docu-series end on a high note instead of the mildly depressing
