Is There Any Sign of Life? Any Sign At All?

Yesterday afternoon I was out and about taking care of a few things when my car died on me.  There have been no indications of problems, no warnings, no smoke, no anything.  It just died.  All that happened when I turned the key was a clicking noise over and over.  I didn’t leave any lights on and I had a full tank of gas.  Wonderful.  So I begin making calls but no one seemed to want to answer and it’s looking like I’ll be spending the rest of my life in a parking lot in front of a tanning salon (yes I fake bake and no, I don’t want to hear anything about how tanning causes cancer or is slowly cooking me both inside and out).  At least there was a gas station across the street I could get my meals from and I did have a book so…I’m pretty much set.

As it turned out, I was not destined to be “that parking lot girl” and a friend of mine came down to have a look and basically proceeded to perform automotive surgery.  Talk about being prepared!  This guy had a mini-garage in the back of his car and as he pulled out the tools I felt slightly like a nurse in the ER.  “Nurse, I need the thingamabob.”  “Yes doctor.”  “Now the doohicky”  “Right away doctor.”

Ok, so I really didn’t have to do anything but stand there but at least I had my own set of jumper cables so that has to count for something right?  He’s cleaning off the battery because there’s goobledygook on it and says we’re going to have to go to Autozone to get some new whatchamacallit.  I’m of course, just tagging along because I don’t know what he’s talking about but he walks right over and picks up a new whatchamacallit.  Easy enough.  So we head to the front to pay, which I’m doing because they’re parts for my car after all.  I swipe my debit card and do the whole transaction only to have the guy at the register try to give my friend the receipt.  Hello??!!  Did you not just see ME take care of the entire transaction?  Did I not just use MY card and enter in MY pin number?  I realize and openly admit that I know nothing about cars other than the absolute most basic information, like they require gas, but come on!  Even if he thought we were together as a couple I don’t see why he wouldn’t hand me the receipt since I was the one handling the payment.  But I digress.

So, we get back to the car and he puts the new whatchamacallit on it and gets the car going.   I head out and drive around for 40 min or so to make sure the battery is charged.  I pull into my apartment and turn off the car then immediately try to turn it back on again to see.  Nothing.  Not even clicking sounds.  Lovely.  So I get out of the car only to realize as soon as I shut my locked doors, that my keys are still inside.  Do I have a spare set?  Yes.  Do I know where they are?  No.  I stand there for a minute looking at my car before finally saying to it, “Really?  Do you think this is funny?  First you just up and die.  I get someone to resuscitate you and not only do you die again but you keep my keys as what?  A trophy?  Some sort of prize?  You’re sick!”

Luckily I remembered the trunk was not locked and since I drive an SUV it’s not really a “trunk” in the normal sense and was able to climb through the back and get my keys.  My roommate drove around and we used her car to jump mine and decided to take it on down to the mechanic even though I knew they were closed for the day.  My plan was to leave it with a note and call them first thing this morning.  We get down there and even though they were technically closed, a few workers were there and nice enough to go ahead and put all my info in the computer so that it would be ready for them to start on today (hopefully, fingers crossed) without having to have me come back down this morning to explain everything.  In the meantime, my roommate got up and brought me into work and my fingers are still crossed that they will be able to squeeze my car in to their schedule today and get it running.

And in case they ever read my blog I really do need to say yet another tremendous THANK YOU to my friend, roommate, and the nice people over at Boyer’s Garage.  Call on me anytime for anything…unless it’s car problems.

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17 thoughts on “Is There Any Sign of Life? Any Sign At All?

  1. Lynne: Yeah I’m afraid this is going to cost me my arm and leg. I don’t know what the outcome officially but I’m thinking not so good.

    morethananelectrician: I’m trying to be prepared for the worst case scenerio and hoping for a better one. Preferably one that leaves a little money in my savings account.

  2. jesseybean: Glad to hear I’m not alone! To top it all off, I got a ride home from work yesterday only to discover that I didn’t have my apartment keys and was locked out of my place for two hours until my roommate got home. What can you do but laugh right!?!

  3. Wow. I couldn’t understand most of you post, what with all the technical jargon. Bwahahahaha!!!!

    Ugh. I hate car problems. A few months ago my car decided to stop running while I was driving it, right smack dab in the middle of the highway. Arrgggghh. It took the dealer 6 weeks to figure out it was a default in the ignition switch. Stupid cars.

  4. 2lazydogs: Yeah, I’m technical like that – it’s how I roll HAHA!! Your experience sounds horrible and I’m glad I was at least parked in a lot, not blocking traffic and trying to get out of the way. Talk about a panic!

  5. That happend to me once and I resolved from that point on that I would learn the basics about what makes my car run. Luckily I was dating a gearhead at the time and that was pretty much easily accomplished. It really is a helpless and cruddy feeling when you’re someplace and have no idea what to do about your situation.

    Hope it isn’t too expensive.

  6. Sarah: That would be handy and I was actually telling the guy that came to help me out that I was going to get Mechanics for Dummy’s and study up on it. Turned out that I needed a new battery and not a new alternator so the cost wasn’t nearly what I had been anticipating. I was very relieved!

  7. This sounds just like me. I always feel the same way (doo-hickeys, thingamabob’s) about vehicles. I’m very fortunate that every time I have had a flat, my husband has been with me.

    It’s great that you can laugh about it.

  8. Wait, I want to play the game too!

    I think it sounds like the ……alternator or the starter. Either one shouldn’t put too much strain on the pocket book.

    Girl, thingamabob…doohicky?!! your too funny!

  9. Wow, it sounds like your friend is quite the studly handyman! You should send him some movie tickets or something! I’m sure it wasn’t any trouble for him. Guys like fixing girls’ cars because it makes them (the men) feel more masculine and cool. I’m not sure that girls think any better of a man who can fix a car, but that is beside the point. Mechanic men like to help for more than philanthropic reasons. There is always a bit of ego involved, which is something most men are not lacking. So, if you want a guy to feel more confident around you, let him help you fix your car. WARNING: if the guy isn’t a gearhead and you try to have him fix your car, you could be in for trouble and he could be in for a very humiliating experience.

  10. Boon: I can’t speak for girls everywhere but I’m always impressed when a guy knows what they’re doing when it comes to cars and very unimpressed when they say they do but it’s obvious they don’t! Glad I could help the ego and I’m glad you got the tickets. Thanks again!!

  11. I like how you use ‘thingamabob’, ‘doohickie’, ‘whatchamacallit’, and ‘goobledygook’, all in one post. You get a scratch and sniff sticker for that one.

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