Three times a day,
three times I see

Well, car trouble part three...and this time the car may have possibly hit me like Dolemite, minus the sweet love making.
On the way to practice tonight. Oil light flashes on. That's weird, six years and that oil light hasn't come on once, but I'm hitting sudden snow and freezing rain, maybe it's screwing with my car, like my car is controlled by some supercomputer. Goes off, flashes on, weird. Hit 40 westbound, things are okay. Uh oh, light, gonna check this when I stop. Light staying on, car makes obviously bad clicking sound when I tap the gas, this is bad, might need to have someone else check this out...when I stop. Click click click, ok, don't tap the gas so much, don't need it if momentum keeps me going. Getting to Thom's and checking it, without a doubt. Click click, car rumbles, no acceleration, battery light is on, coast to the shoulder. So I'm stuck, at least fucking 15 miles from Thom's, about 30 from mine, and a little over a mile from the next exit, a few from the last one I passed.
I decide this has something to do with the oil. Get out, check it. Low, still there, just real low. Go check my trunk for oil, and to my surprise, I have some. In a moment that I felt questioned my masculinity, I wondered how exactly I would go about putting oil into my car since, yes, I have never done this before. Get out the handy dandy car guide, learn how, super, I feel smarter, good to learn at least one new thing a day. The first instructions I read led me to believe that I had to pour the oil into the dipstick hole, which was going to be a feat since: a) it was pitch black outside; and b) I don't carry a funnel in my car. I kept checking the instructions, found the real way, filled an old, clear water bottle with oil to make the pouring a little easier and precise. Filled. Waited. Checked and okay. Car good, until I touch the gas pedal. This was repeated. Walked to the nearest gas station. Called around, caused my dad's nose to bleed.
Eventually a cop came, as did Evan. Cop called a wrecker. I made the nice officer rub his temples with my questions from the backseat of his car; I was nervous.
So, now my car sits at the same gas station it sat at a few weeks ago. The people were nice, all parties involved were actually very understanding, this could have gone much worse, I suppose.
Now I wait for the estimate.
The song quoted above is referring to masturbation, yes.
posted by beta at 1/06/2003 11:50:00 PM

 
They're Chumming The Ocean

Holy crap!
Good news.
Pleasant surprise.
Frontmen turned rhythm section.
Cree is a powerful man.
posted by Robert C. Gaddy at 1/06/2003 04:59:00 PM