Sputter, plutter, plfftt

September 11, 2008 § 6 Comments

Q: How many times can my car break down riding across Midtown?
A: Three.

Something was noticeably off when I went out to my car yesterday. The little remote wasn’t unlocking my doors, and I almost forgot that there is a keyhole for entry in such cases. I turned the ignition and there was nothing. Dead battery. Instead of dealing with campus police, I called my man to fetch me since he works across the street. One jump and we were on our way to Auto Zone, or so we thought.

My car died on the way. On 4th Street & West Peachtree. In rush hour traffic. I tried to cruise over to the side in neutral, but the car wouldn’t shift and just stopped. B was right in front of me, but apparently my horn doesn’t work when the battery’s dead, either. People were actually being merciful with me, thankfully. A cop across the street grudgingly walked over to check on me. A few other people came to my rescue, gave me a jump start, and I was on my way again. Or so I thought.

I only got as far as Glenn Iris & Highland by the time it died again. People of the Old 4th were not as merciful this time. B got to yelling back, and I sat flustered while he navigated traffic backwards to give me another jump so I could get out of the intersection. He’s just as good at cars as yelling. We gave up next to Highland Bakery, and I called my emergency-roadside-whatever via my insurance. B was excited to ride in the tow truck, and I followed them home.

One tow truck, 2 trips to Auto Zone, and a boozy thank-you dinner at Mezcalito’s later, B put the new battery in and things seem fine today. I’m a little superstitious about cars, though. I’m about to pay that thing off, about to hit 100K miles, and this happened. I’m hoping this was just a blip in the radar.

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§ 6 Responses to Sputter, plutter, plfftt

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