I might get a bus card

When I graduated with my master's I had to buy a car. Angela went to Tennesee and took the Intrepid we'd shared up until then (not that I was too sad - I loved driving that car and how much it held but I hated how much money I'd put into it). I was determined, after dealing with car issues most of my driving career, to buy a new car. And I did. A 2002 shiny red Saturn VUE. And it has been my solid companion for the past seven years.

I rarely thought twice about it, it always started, always ran well, I kept it lubed and oiled and all that good stuff. Even tried to get it tires before the big Grand Canyon trip but they weren't needed. It was one thing in my life I took for granted and enjoyed taking for granted.

Until Saturday.

Angela and I spent all day shopping for a dress, a dress for her to wear to a wedding in February. I already have a dress but if any of you out there have had to buy something to wear for a specific event, you know how difficult it can be. Nothing fits. Nothing is in your price range. The malls are crowded. The salespeople aren't helpful. The store is under construction (don't get me started). And so it was a long day. But we decided after sandwiches at home to try one more store at one more mall. And on our second store at the mall (Angela had a Macy's coupon, we had to look), she found a dress. We were estatic. And ready to go home and watch a movie and go to bed early.

You know what they say about making plans right? Yeah. God laughed. And not just a chuckle but a freakin' big ole belly laugh.

My VUE, my trusty car, was dead. No cough, no trying to start but not able to catch but out and out dead. The lights dead, the locks dead, the hazards dead. Everything. Dead. For no apparent reason other than it had served me for seven years and was done.

Did I mention it was Saturday night? At like 7:45pm? And that we were in the basement of a five story parking garage. Yeah. I was impressed.

Almost three hours later we got home. Did I mention the mall was FIVE miles down the road? Yeah.

Because, of course, a cell phone doesn't work in the basement of a parking garage, I had to go five flights up on escalators to get a signal. Once I got the number for security, I asked for a tow truck company's number and asked if I could leave my car overnight. They sent a guy down to us who was very helpful, talkative and all-around nice. After asking if I had a wrench, a screwdriver or any tools (oddly enough, don't carry my toolbox with me), he finally used my pocket wrench to get the battery cover off and jump the car. Nothing. So he jumped it again. Nothing.

After twenty minutes of charge still nothing. So we left the car for the night and made our way to the mall entrance. We found a Taxi Zone and waited. And waited. And called. And waited. Then we tried to get on the bus, which didn't go well. Apparently you need to have EXACT CHANGE. Not dollar bills, change, to ride the bus. Again, so not impressed.

Finally the cab we called came and as Ang scooted across the backseat she motioned wildly at the floor. I looked down and did a double take, yes, there on the floor was a twenty dollar bill. After a moment of guilt, I smiled. God was making sure we were okay. (Granted it was a $20.55 cent cab ride home but still - for five bucks we got a heck of a deal!)

This leads me to Sunday. Back to the garage. Car still dead. I'm angry and frustrated that I have to deal with this. But I do. We tried to get the battery out (made a stop at Auto Zone on the way there, got some little tool that proved utterly useless.) but after an hour and a half, gave up (we'd even gone back to Pep Boys during this time to borrow tools - yes, they lent us socket wrenches, and yes, I took them back). So I went back up the escalators and called the tow truck.

And three more hours passed.

Yeah. I am a relatively patient person. I am also a planner which is why when we left Sunday afternoon I threw two magazines and a script in the car. It goes without saying that we read everything. After a few more calls to the tow company I figure out that when they get to the garage and call me, and I don't answer, they cancel my call and leave. They do not realize (even though I've told them) that I have to wait for them in the basement with my car, where I get no cell service and when I go up the escalators every 20 - 30 minutes to check my voicemail, I have none. So yeah. Finally a tow truck is on its' way.

That's when I find out a tow truck can't fit in the basement, the ceilings are too low (did I mention that it's rained over the weekend and the basement actually looks a lot like the set of Water World? Seriously. Six inch deep puddles in some spots and constant dripping.) and get a little more agitated. This is also when the tow truck's friend mini-truck arrives and offers me a jump. Even though I've already told them I've tried jumping it and it didn't work. So I say fine, jump it until your heart's content and I went off to find Angela. (After five hours in the parking garage we took bathroom breaks, and of course she took hers at the moment the tow guy shows and I have to leave with him even though I'd been waiting for her on level 2. Seriously this is a freakin' comedy of errors people.)

When I get back to my car the tow guy is smiling and says I'm good. I am incredulous. He says the guy last night didn't know what he was doing and I'm fine now, it's running just fine. So we pay him $80 (we got a $5 discount for paying cash, whatever) and he leaves. We sit there, in our basement, and drink the Starbucks Ang had just gotten us (she was a trooper, not feeling great, dealing with me and even made me pancakes at 9pm last night!). And then we head home.

All is good. I'm done with this car mess I'm thinking. I'll take it in to Saturn this week, have it looked over, even get it a new battery just for kicks. And then I put it in reverse to back it into the driveway, just in case. And it dies. Lights. Locks. Everything. Dead.

And that started the fun portion of the evening when Angela and Sarah got to push a million pound SUV up an inclined driveway. And can I just say, the incline is like eight inches? And it took us a good thirty minutes? Yeah. Fun times!

So that's the story of my car. And that's also why, as I write this, it's sitting in the driveway, staring out at the street, a very expensive lawn ornament. Yeah. I haven't decided what to do next. My dad found me sights on e-how with step by step directions for changing the battery. I might do that. I might ask my neighbor for some guidance. I might try and push it further back in the driveway when Ang gets home so we can park her car. I might get a bus card. And I might go work on my script so I can sell it and get a car that comes with a driver. That seems the most logical action I can take at the moment.