Well, my cars hate me.
With a passion, apparently.
First the radiator in the Aurora decided that it didn’t feel like it should remain in a nonporous state. So now my car appears as though it is unable to make it to the bathroom in time. The car tries to hide it too, instead of just spraying a stream of it everywhere, she got very subtle and just lets it dribble out a drop at a time. As if I won’t notice the car sitting there, whistling with its hands in it’s pockets, and a big wet spot between it’s tires.
I mean c’mon, I may be less than observant at times, but I think I can tell when someone wets themselves.
It also seems that no companies make the automotive equivalent of Depends, so now I have replace the radiator. Admittedly though, my car would look pretty funny with a giant saturated diaper hanging down though.
Now to Godzilla. I had intended on taking her to a car show today, but nooooo.
I can’t do that of course. As I hop into the car to leave the gas station (mind you that I had driven there, just in case you couldn’t figure that out) and what happens?
Click.
Try again.
Click (ad nauseum)
After a protracted fight to bring the car back to life (picture me with the defibulator) I put down my jumper cables in defeat, and admitted that my starter had bit the dust. In front of the gas pump.
Now, for those of you not aware, Godzilla is not a small car. She is a 1967 Chrysler. This car is composed of enough steel, that recycling her could net enough raw materials to rebuild the Titanic.
They had bondo in 1912, right?
And all 18 bazillion pounds of this car, is blocking the fuel pumps.
So I have to walk down to the shop to get my dad’s truck, which is, unfortunately, a very common occurance for me. In one of the rare instances of luck today, my Aunt Sherry drove past me, and even offered me a lift, sparing my poor little legs the strain of exercise. After using my dad’s truck to grab some tools, a new starter, jack stands and other needed tools, I get ready to change the starter.
Now, I should mention, that this car was absolutely refusing to start.
At least 20 times, over a 3 hour period, this car failed to start. And it wasn’t me sitting there just listening to it click either. Connections were checked and cleaned, the starter was coaxed with my standard fix it tool (hammer), and it was attempted to be jumped twice.
With the jack under the car (not lifting it) and the jackstands off to the sides, the tool box chilling beside the car, me all set to swap out the starter in the Sheetz parking lot, I figure, what the hell, I’ll try to start it one more time.
Turns key.
Roar.
It starts. WTF???
Now, mind you, I did swap the starter out later on, but I just made sure to drive it straight to the one garage, without shutting the car off.
My cars hate me.
