BMW

BMW: Bring Me to the Workshop

This article talks about the BMW E235i. A symphony of German engineering, a purring beast on asphalt, and a financial black hole disguised as a luxury sedan. Mine, affectionately nicknamed "The Wallet Vacuum", was a 3.0L, six-cylinder (6 สูบ) marvel that devoured my bank account (สูบเงินในกระเป๋า) faster than a toddler with a tub of gummy bears. It was installed with Custom Android Screen and entertainment system. Sure, the acceleration was exhilarating, the handling a dream, but the repair bills? Those were a recurring nightmare fueled by high-octane anxiety.

Then, one glorious (and expensive) day, The Wallet Vacuum met its demise. Not in a fiery blaze of glory, mind you, but with a whimper and a puff of smoke, mere meters from my driveway. Engine kaput. Defeated, I sold the carcass for salvage, vowing to swear off the Bavarian brand and its seductive, yet ruinous ways.

Then, fate, that fickle mistress, dealt Igq a greasy hand. Just a hop, skip, and a sputter away from his driveway, the engine threw a rod that would make Zeus jealous. The E235i became an E-scrap, good only for salvage and nostalgic tears.

But Igq (Grassstation CEO), ever the optimist (or perhaps the financially masochistic), couldn't stay unplugged from the Bavarian brand. He yearned for the leather-clad throne, the kidney grille grin, the symphony of warning lights on the dash. So, fueled by a successful stint slinging ganja at Grassstation and a crypto portfolio wilder than a squirrel on Red Bull, he did the unthinkable: he bought a 2.0L version of his beloved 2 Series.

This 2.0L is like the prodigal son who hit the gym and learned some financial responsibility. It's got the same sleek lines, the same sporty growl, but without the insatiable appetite for my hard-earned Benjamins. It's like a reformed alcoholic enjoying a nice glass of kombucha – the thrill is still there, but the hangover is gone.

Of course, the workshop visits haven't completely vanished. There's still the occasional sensor gremlin, the mysterious electrical hiccup. But hey, those are just minor annoyances, the price you pay for owning a piece of automotive art (even if it's a slightly less expensive piece).

So, here I am, back in the BMW fold, wallet a little lighter, but heart a whole lot happier. I guess you can take the boy out of the Beemer, but you can't take the Beemer out of the boy. (Unless, of course, the engine blows up again, then maybe I'll consider a Prius next time.)

One thing's for sure: this time, I'm approaching the relationship with a healthy dose of cynicism and a well-stocked emergency fund. Because, let's be honest, owning a BMW is like dating a beautiful Italian supermodel – incredibly exciting, but guaranteed to leave you with a lighter wallet and a laundry list of emotional baggage. But hey, some things are worth the risk, right? So, pass me the coolant, crank up the Bimmer anthem, and point me towards the nearest workshop – the adventure (and the inevitable breakdowns) await!

As of 2024, Igq traded BMW for 3 Door Civic