It all started Friday, my fave day of the week. While I was tweeting “TGIF” my car battery was silently dying, as a result of me absentmindedly leaving my headlights on. I actually have legit plans, so being stranded outside my workplace with no coworkers in sight is especially annoying on this Friday.
5:10 pm — As I attempted to coerce my brother into coming to my rescue, I spied a lone coworker heading to his car and thanked my lucky stars. I got the cables, he got his car.
5:25 pm — My battery is NOT responding, my horn is sounding nonstop and annoying the entire neighborhood. I quickly Google how to stop the horn. My coworker has to bail, so I’m left in a fit of growing frustration. Breathe.
5:45 pm — My brother agrees to come save the day. When he arrives, he realizes the jumper cables were mismatched, which is why the earlier jump had no effect. This seemed like good news until we realized that more damage may have been done to the battery, which shows no sign of life following 20 minutes of attempted resuscitation. FML.
6:15 pm — My concerned S.O. agrees to travel 30 miles to check out the situation. He’s more knowledgeable about cars and thangs, and has the tools to figure out the next step. It’s dark and rainy now, so my brother and I grab a bite and wait for the S.O. to arrive. I begrudgingly cancel my Friday night plans, and hold on to hope of a solution.
7:00 pm — The S.O. is irritated that someone else messed up my car. Rightfully so, since even with his expertise, the car won’t start. We cut my brother loose, unhinge the dead battery and travel to Auto Zone to see if it’s salvageable. The nearest Auto Zone is 15 miles away. Dang!
7:30 pm — The battery test takes an hour, and Auto Zone closes soon. We can’t test it until the morning, but batteries are so expensive I’d rather find out whether I actually need a new one or not. Car will have to stay overnight at my job. I live 25 miles away.
8:00 pm — The S.O. asks whether I locked my car, which I did. His questions are valid; I drive the most commonly stolen car–a Honda Civic, and mine has been stolen before. I’m exhausted and beyond irritated. The S.O. is still grumbling about someone else touching my car.
9:00 pm — Time to call it a night. We head home with plans to return in the A.M. My Friday night is a wrap, but there’s always Saturday, right?