(no subject)
Feb. 8th, 2011 08:08 pmThere are two things about me that are perhaps not very obvious - at least, not at first glance.
I'm stubborn. And I indulge heavily (at times) in the luxury of denial.
Ok, so.
I opened my car door a few weeks ago, mid January or so, during a mildish snow storm, and noticed that the overhead light didn't flip on.
'Ah, well, I'm sure the headlights will work.'
*click*
No headlights.
'Huh. Well. Let me open the back door. I'll bet THOSE lights work.'
*click*
No interior lights.
'Well. Clearly the battery is not dead. Because that would be annoying and stupid, and I have every damned intention of taking an ill advised road trip to a coffee shop and a dead battery is NOT part of my plan. I'll go get my car keys.'
*scamper*
*clang*
*snick*
~~~DEAD. SILENCE.~~~
*insert the noises of a cursing giraffe here*
I walked to the gas station across the street to see if they had jumper cables.
Nnnope.
I called the garage that I just gave over $2K to last autumn to fix my car to see if they'd be willing to come give Bartok a jump, since they're 2 blocks away.
"Nope, but if you can drop the car off, we'll check out the electrical system in the morning."
"I won't be there. The car won't start."
"Well, if you do get it started...tell ya what, I'll make a note that you're gonna drop it off."
I managed to not hang up on him.
I stomp back home, swap my heels for a pair of sneakers, and announce my intention to go walk to Big Lots to get jumper cables.
I get to the corner, realize I'm friggin' cold, and I turn around.
"I'm more cold than I am stubborn," I announce. "And now I'm going to bed."
Next night, I beat my very very VERY patient housemate home, and so I start shoveling out the driveway in a proactive attempt to thank her for dealing with my cranky self and my very dead car.
A passer-by stops to ask if I'm ok shoveling.
"Um. I guess. But would you happen to have jumper cables?"
"I do!" And he proceeds to try very hard to get Bartok's battery to leap back to life.
No go.
He does, however, regale me with tales about how he's a kinky boy scout who writes mysteries and either very graphic or very vague sex scenes. "I can't seem to write non-graphic sex," he confesses.
All things considered? This is exactly the kind of person the universe would send to me as a would-be rescuer.
We finally agree that the battery is dead. I manage to not curse.
elfowls_nest agrees to take me out to get a new battery. I ask the salesclerk how to swap out a battery.
It's around 8PM or so. Dark, cold, and I really shouldn't be doing this, but..yeah.
I go to the passenger side door of the hearse to get my tools.
*CRACK* goes the now-broken doorhandle.
*insert more sounds of a cursing giraffe, just loud enough to drown out the sounds of the universe saying no really that drive you're planning to go sit in a coffee shop and hope for a conversation to occur is not a good idea*
I find a set of small wrenches, borrow a flashlight to supplement the dim one I had in the hearse, and though it takes me the better part of half an hour, I do finally successfully change my car battery.
*insert exhausted cranky victory 'yay' here*
...My mother informs me that most people wouldn't have attempted this maneuver regardless of darkness and weather.
(And dammit, I did not in fact go to the coffee shop. My poet-heart still thinks it was a good idea. *sigh*)
I'm stubborn. And I indulge heavily (at times) in the luxury of denial.
Ok, so.
I opened my car door a few weeks ago, mid January or so, during a mildish snow storm, and noticed that the overhead light didn't flip on.
'Ah, well, I'm sure the headlights will work.'
*click*
No headlights.
'Huh. Well. Let me open the back door. I'll bet THOSE lights work.'
*click*
No interior lights.
'Well. Clearly the battery is not dead. Because that would be annoying and stupid, and I have every damned intention of taking an ill advised road trip to a coffee shop and a dead battery is NOT part of my plan. I'll go get my car keys.'
*scamper*
*clang*
*snick*
~~~DEAD. SILENCE.~~~
*insert the noises of a cursing giraffe here*
I walked to the gas station across the street to see if they had jumper cables.
Nnnope.
I called the garage that I just gave over $2K to last autumn to fix my car to see if they'd be willing to come give Bartok a jump, since they're 2 blocks away.
"Nope, but if you can drop the car off, we'll check out the electrical system in the morning."
"I won't be there. The car won't start."
"Well, if you do get it started...tell ya what, I'll make a note that you're gonna drop it off."
I managed to not hang up on him.
I stomp back home, swap my heels for a pair of sneakers, and announce my intention to go walk to Big Lots to get jumper cables.
I get to the corner, realize I'm friggin' cold, and I turn around.
"I'm more cold than I am stubborn," I announce. "And now I'm going to bed."
Next night, I beat my very very VERY patient housemate home, and so I start shoveling out the driveway in a proactive attempt to thank her for dealing with my cranky self and my very dead car.
A passer-by stops to ask if I'm ok shoveling.
"Um. I guess. But would you happen to have jumper cables?"
"I do!" And he proceeds to try very hard to get Bartok's battery to leap back to life.
No go.
He does, however, regale me with tales about how he's a kinky boy scout who writes mysteries and either very graphic or very vague sex scenes. "I can't seem to write non-graphic sex," he confesses.
All things considered? This is exactly the kind of person the universe would send to me as a would-be rescuer.
We finally agree that the battery is dead. I manage to not curse.
It's around 8PM or so. Dark, cold, and I really shouldn't be doing this, but..yeah.
I go to the passenger side door of the hearse to get my tools.
*CRACK* goes the now-broken doorhandle.
*insert more sounds of a cursing giraffe, just loud enough to drown out the sounds of the universe saying no really that drive you're planning to go sit in a coffee shop and hope for a conversation to occur is not a good idea*
I find a set of small wrenches, borrow a flashlight to supplement the dim one I had in the hearse, and though it takes me the better part of half an hour, I do finally successfully change my car battery.
*insert exhausted cranky victory 'yay' here*
...My mother informs me that most people wouldn't have attempted this maneuver regardless of darkness and weather.
(And dammit, I did not in fact go to the coffee shop. My poet-heart still thinks it was a good idea. *sigh*)
no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:37 am (UTC)(The whole checking the lights thing is very similar to the denial I showed this summer that I had the wrong suitcase. Because it simply HAD to be my suitcase. So, um, I closed it, walked away, returned, reopened it...and no magical transformation happened. *sigh*)
no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:05 am (UTC)(I've had jumper cables ever since my first car, when my father had our gas station/mechanic order the same kind they used. I still have them; they are truly heavy-duty. Sooooo... wasn't up for going out to First Friday at the bead store/gallery on Friday; didn't really have a project to work on; kept feeling I *had* to go, so pulled a couple things together to work on. Halfway through, nice young guy from the bike shop next door came in. Diffidently saying, his boss had been out of town for a while, boss's truck needed to be moved... and I smiled and said the magic phrase: "I have cables." *grin* Yep, almost-61-year-old woman, with cane, to the rescue.)
(Oh... I do recommend having cables, even if you never ever need them for yourself again. I also used to have a gas can; rescued a couple of people that way (didn't store it in the car with gas in it, just had it to make the run to the gas station when someone else needed it). Also a small toolkit, in addition to the tire iron and jack, which I'm sure you do have. :) )
no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:20 am (UTC)(It's very hard to ask for help. Sigh.)
no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 04:10 am (UTC)And, sorry, I was giggling, too....... ;)
no subject
Date: 2011-02-10 05:48 pm (UTC)And please! Giggle away. I'm pleased that my GAH! was as funny to others as it was..eventually..to me. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-02-09 06:08 pm (UTC)Sorry but it's just so funny, the way you tell it.
The door handle breaking after all that was...epic :)
Glad it ended mostly well.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-10 05:46 pm (UTC)As frustrated and GAH!! as I was at the time, it's a prime example of how my life is a sitcom waiting to happen.