Bad Car

Mid-sentence on a call to Cali, I gasped. “WHY IS MY CAR BLOWING HOT AIR AT ME??!!??”

JMo, the original BFF, replied: “It’s okay. You probably just need some Freon.”

Lola: “No, this is bad, I know it.” [See “Goat Breather”.]

JMo: “You always freak out about these things, but I promise it’s okay.”

Lola: “Okay,” I said, skeptically, pouting. “I have to go now. I must roll down my windows so that I don’t pass out, and I won’t be able to hear you anymore.”

And thus I drove the entire way to Dallas from Fort Worth in 103 degree heat, arriving at a dinner party wind-blown, soaking wet, and a good deal grumpier than I was 40 miles previously.

Fast forward to Monday morning when I finally had a moment to take my naughty car to the mechanic.

Lola: “My A/C isn’t working. Can I please have someone look at it? I think it needs coolant.”

Mechanic: “Freon.”

Lola: “Whatever.”

Alas, they were too busy to help me, and the thought of going another day without A/C in this Texas heat was more than I could bear, so I decided I would take it to the dealership. Knowing that my visit was last minute and that they wouldn’t have a loaner for me, I stopped by my parents’ house first in order to have my mom follow me and take me to work since I would be without a car.

As I turned up the hill to leave Mom’s house with her in my wake, I saw a girl on the side of the road who had fallen off her bike and was bleeding everywhere. There were some people helping her, so I was passing by to get out of the way, and my car said “errrrr. Errr. Blaaaaah.” And there it died in the middle of the street next to the wounded biker. My car refused to start, to go into gear, to do anything but sit there and embarrass me and block traffic.

The neighborly Samaritans were totally stressed.

Angry crowd on residential street: “Please move your car! Please call for a tow NOW!”

Lola: “I’m trying! I am! I’m so sorry! Ahhhhh!”

Sirens wail in the distance, and I beg, plead, urge my car to turn the f*** on and move, but it denies me.

I called AAA and immediately launch into informing the dispatch lady that this is an emergency and I need a tow right this second. She was wonderful and did her best. The tow company called me to let me know my tow man (who has been so kind to come to my aid multiple times) would be there in 25 minutes.

Lola: “25 MINUTES?!? But my car is blocking the way to a injured person! The ambulance can’t reach her!” Sirens in the background wailed along with me.

Okay, a slight stretch to the truth, but still. I needed a tow STAT! (I should say at this point that I think the girl is fine. She was sitting up and moving her limbs, but it was a pretty bad fall off of her bike after she tried — unsuccessfully — to climb back into her toe clips).

As I sat in anguish, impatiently awaiting my knight in a tow truck, a fireman approached my car-turned-impediment and placed his fireman hands on the open window frame of my car and leaned in.

Please forgive me, but this man was hot, and I mean crazy hot, like should be a model on a fireman calendar hot. Between the stress and his hotness, it took two hours for my heartbeat to return to normal.

Wildly Sexy Fireman: “So, I’m sure you’ve tried turning on your car…”

Lola: “Yes! It won’t turn on or even go into gear!” I exclaimed as I tried turning on my car and putting it into gear to prove I’m right, and my damn car slid into gear. “Ah, ha-ha… it’s because you’re touching it!” My dumb joke floats out in between us, seemingly missing the mark.

Another (less hot) fireman sauntered over to examine my untimely roadblock: “Can you get your car into neutral?”

WSF announced proudly: “She can now because I touched it!”

I’m slightly ashamed that I was so pleased my joke was well-received, but I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw both firemen stand there poking my car attempting to give my vehicle good fireman mojo. Alas, I’m only able to pop into neutral and navigate backwards down the hill and out of the way to continue my wait.

Meanwhile, my mom was standing across the street with two other ladies who thought this was all sooooo funny (after the girl got loaded up into the ambulance, of course). “I’m blushing because of the heat, I swear!”

In the end, I need some new fancy (expensive) car parts, which means that one week after paying off my car, I’m in the market for a new one. Yay.

————————————————————————————–

LolaK Edit as of 7/8/09 @ 1:12p (shortly after the 12:34:56 apocolypse): In addition to the new starter and battery cable my fickle car requires, the thing also needs a new compressor. Fortunately, the manufacturer is springing for the part leaving me with the tab for the labor. At this point, repairs are already exceeding the amount my usual monthly credit card bill. Joy, joy, joy. I think I need a hug. : (


3 thoughts on “Bad Car

  1. I am sad I was not right and it was just freon. I think the car gods saw your car was paid off and were like, ‘Haha, time for a new one!’ at least they sent you a hot fireman (or two) in consolation.

  2. If it’s any consolation, anytime something has gone wrong with my car, a kindly stranger always stops to help, but it has never, ever been a hot fireman. Not even once.

  3. Haha. You two are funny. JMo, oh, how I wish you were right about my A/C situation. A, you know, that is actually a modicum of consolation; thank you : )

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