“Be sure to check your oil.”<\/p>\n
My dad was giving me some final words of advice before I left on my trek
\nnorth. My sister’s boyfriend had told me to do the same thing. I assured
\nthem I would.<\/p>\n
That was more than three weeks back. I remembered to check it (when the
\nengine was cool) a few days ago. It didn’t quite come up to the “ADD” line.<\/p>\n
So it was off to Kmart to get a couple of quarts at my dad’s suggestion.
\n “Get some high quality stuff,” he told me on the phone. So I selected two
\nyellow containers that bore a name I recognized from ads between sporting
\nevents and were more expensive than the other kinds there on the shelf. When
\nI got home, I dumped them one at a time into a promising hole inside one of
\nthe engine components. Tossing the empty containers into the trash, I
\nthought, well, that’s that.<\/p>\n
This morning, my engine wouldn’t start. The starter just made an obscene
\nclicking noise whenever I turned the key. “Okay, God, what are you trying to
\ntell me,” I asked as I returned into the house. Calling my employer to tell
\nhim I’d be late, I looked in vain for some keys to the other two cars in the
\ncircular driveway. The other occupants of this house had left on their
\nmotorcycles already. I guess they’d taken their keys with them, because I
\ncouldn’t find any with which to try to jump my car off of their’s. So for
\nthe second time in less than two weeks, I called AAA. I think I even talked
\nto the same operator on the other end of the line. Veronica, her name was.
\n She was nice, even if she wasn’t the same one. All but called me “hon” as
\nshe promised a tow would be on the way.<\/p>\n
I sat out on the front porch and read the paper while waiting for the truck
\nto arrive, which it did as soon as I ducked inside to use the bathroom.
\n Outside, a young man in drooping black jeans, a teal t-shirt, and blond Van
\nDyke was untangling a pair of jumper cables. He didn’t respond when I
\ngreeted him, just silently hooked the clamps up to my battery and then softly
\ntold me to start it up. The engine simply clicked all the more obscenely.
\n The insecure tow truck operator frowned at the battery and adjusted the
\nclamps, fooled with the wires, poked around. I stared and frowned at the
\nengine too, not because I thought I might find something wrong but because
\nthere really wasn’t anything else to look at without looking foolish.
\n Something caught my eye, however. A gaping hole, the same hole I’d dumped
\ntwo quarts of oil into, Doh! the same hole I’d forgotten to put the top back
\nonto! Fortunately for me, the lid was attached to the car. I screwed it
\nback on and then proceeded to rediculously check my oil as Mr. Insecurity
\nfooled with more wires. I was way above the “SAFE” line.<\/p>\n
After several more unsuccessful tries, Insecurity gave up. “Um, it may be
\nthe starter,” he suggested meekly. I asked him if he could take it to
\nLlyellyns, the same place that fixed my tire last week. He assented. Then
\nhe pushed my car out into the street so he could back up to hook it up to his
\nrig. The “damage free” truck lowered a system of bars that opened, wrapped
\naround my front tires, and locked into place like some spaceship satellite
\nretrieval device. I hopped into the front seat with him, and we barreled off
\ndown the road.<\/p>\n
“There it is,” I pointed, as we zipped past Llyellyns after riding in silence
\nfor several minutes. Insecurity slowly breaked, turned around at the next
\nmedian crossing, and headed back to the garage. We got out and went up to a
\ncouple of guys intently discussing something in front of a car with an open
\nhood. My tow truck driver didn’t seem bold enough to break into the
\nconversation, so when one of the fellows, a guy with RayBan (ray-band?) like
\nsunglasses turned around and came close to acknowledging our existence, I
\nblurted out, “I think we’ve got a problem with the starter.”<\/p>\n
Insecurity moved the car into an empty spot and unhooked it. Then he
\ngallantly, if meekly, waited till RayBan made his way over to have a look.
\n They curtly discussed the nature of batteries and starters while RayBan
\nhooked the battery up to a handheld measuring device of some sort and
\ndeclared, “This battery is dead!”<\/p>\n
I thought Insecurity would get me to sign something or other, but he just
\neventually hopped into his truck and drove off. I waved thank you and smiled
\ngratefully. His dimples appeared from beyond the Van Dyke as he waved shyly
\nback. RayBan returned from the garage with a new battery, which, when hooked
\nup to my car, started it right up. “I think we can charge your battery back
\nup,” RayBan gave his prognosis, “We’ll clean the corrosion off of the heads
\ntoo. That’ll drain a battery.” I waited in the office and read (I’d brought
\na book this time instead of having to flip through auto magazines). Finally,
\nRayBan reappeared behind the counter, “All done! That’ll be fifteen bucks.”
\n He explained to me as I handed him my credit card that I might just have to
\nget a new battery if the charge didn’t hold. “The heat is real bad on ’em.”
\n—
\nIn other news, my employer informed me today that I am working for the
\ncompany as a “subcontractor” since otherwise this nonprofit organization
\nwould have to pay taxes. “So now you’ll get paid!”<\/p>\n
I haven’t really had any expenses. My lodging is provided for, people keep
\nfeeding me. But now I’ll have money for the next time my car decides to
\nbreak down. Or if I need more oil.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
“Be sure to check your oil.” My dad was giving me some final words of advice before I left on my trek north. My sister’s boyfriend had told me to do the same thing. I assured them I would. That was more than three weeks back. I remembered to check it (when the engine was…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-464","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-automotive-frustrations","category-nonclassified-nonsense"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/464","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=464"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/464\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=464"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=464"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=464"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}