I Get It, Stuff Breaks

But does it really have to all break at the same time?

Those of you that follow me on the Twitter (@InJennifersHead) and the book of Face saw my grateful post to the nice guy in the Jaguar.

The assault sedan needs some work.  It’s got a cracked radiator, but it is cracked right where the top hose attaches so we’ve been limping it along.  It needs a muffler.  Funny enough, the state mandates I have one of those and does not require me to fill out all sorts of special forms, check my background (again!), put me on a list, and charge me a fee.  In fact, they can charge me a fee if I don’t put a muffler on my car.

And so, of course, the alternator went out. No problem, we live in the future and I can order one on eBay. Meanwhile, I’ll just keep the battery charged since my commute is short enough to run off the gel cell.

Heh.  Best laid plans.

Sitting in line at the light at a busy intersection, I see the light turn green. Put it in first, do the clutch pedal/gas pedal balance thing. Except, gas pedal does not bring the gas.

Crap. I have just discovered the exact moment when the battery no longer has enough juice to power the fuel pump.  It does, however, have enough juice to power the hazard lights which apparently tell other drivers to honk and give you the finger. You know, because that’s helpful. Clearly I have just made the choice to maliciously inconvenience all of you people, and your actions will show me the error of my ways.

You know what? I hadn’t had any coffee yet either, and you people were not helping my mood. Notice there was no news story about some woman just snapping and shooting all the commuters on Broadway this morning.  Even more evidence that the semi-auto with the scary magazines that rides on my hip must be defective. Much like my car, it also has no muffler. Nope, all you jerk-wads just received my ire and wish for you to get lice or bedbugs or horrible noxious gas when you get in the elevator with your boss.

Except you, Mr. Well-dressed man in the shiny new Jaguar. You noticed me alone in my vehicle as you pulled around.  I saw you too.  Your side mirror just barely cleared mine. And then you pulled into the parking lot just to my right. You got out of your expensive car, stepped over the shrubbery, and asked if you could help. You then proceeded to push my car back and into the adjacent parking lot with the help of another stranger who followed your lead.  You got me safely into a parking spot and asked if I had someone I could call.  (I did and had done so already.) Then you shook my hand and assured me that it would get better from here.

Dude.  You get bonus Karma points today.  Thank you.

EvylRobot arrived shortly thereafter in a borrowed vehicle and ferried me on to work. He gets to be school teacher, holster maker, taxi driver, mechanic, and if we’re all lucky, still be fun internet guy today. He’s a keeper. He takes good care of me, and we have a lot of fun together. (Go see this video he put together for a sampling of said fun.)

It all works out in the end.



11 thoughts on “I Get It, Stuff Breaks”

  1. Sounds like you got ambushed by one of those camouflaged Mondays.
    Sneaky bastards got me a couple of times this week.

    And as for shooting asshole drivers, I think a good court case could be made for it being justifiable homicide but given the current ammo situation they’re not worth cost of restocking.

    Just think…
    One more day and then it’s the weekend.


  2. Dang. Glad everything worked out okay! I try to be that Jaguar guy (minus the Jag…and well-dressed part, of course), if its obvious that the person on the side of the road does not already have the situation well in hand. Usually I come upon situations like that when there’s already two or three guys working the jack and removing the tire, but I’ve been known to hop out and help push someone out of traffic.

  3. Abnormalist definitions:

    Noun: Medication, the substance God gave us to make up for, and significantly improve bad days. Recommended dosage, until your face feels kinda “neat”. Ideally this dosing should happen with red meat, or pizza, and after (absolutely not before) some recoil therapy.

  4. Uh, I have a Jag, but not usually well dressed. I DO try to help someone in distress though. Even if I’m driving the hoopty. That sucks Jenn. Just remember unless it is a catastrophic fail, its still cheaper than a car payment! I’m gonna drive the 225K mile 1994 Mustang until it stops!

  5. Anyone who owns a Jag knows the pain of the thing not working for no reason. And nobody stops to help the “rich bastard in the Jag”. He prolly just remembered how much that sucked and decided to not let you feel like he did.

    Lucas, Prince of Darkness! You can take me, but you can’t have HER!

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