Last Friday, I got what would be the start of a cold. It had been since
November I had gone without a cold. Starts in the same place every time: the glands. Goes from the throat to my nose to my chest, like
clockwork. It got so bad that my co-worker, Sandi, suggested I take a day off this week and get some rest. Normally I tough out a cold, considering it to be the least proper reasons to
call in sick. I came home Monday night, bought some
NyQuil, and conked out. I was interrupted by a call from
Carson, who lives with me. He was still at work and couldn't get his car started. We had just come back from the
noder gathering in Atlanta with no problems, so I wondered what was up now. He asked me at first if I could come get him, but I had no idea where in the city he was working and wasn't confident enough to rely on my recently drugged mind to navigate, since there was no way to call him if I got lost. I talked him into calling a cab. I barely remember the time frames between him coming home and going to bed, I was that plowed.
The following morning, I decided that calling in would be the best thing, since the dust in the body shop doesn't help when you're coughing from your sternum in an effor to clear your lungs of green phlegm. While I was at home, I called a tow truck to go get Carson's car and he took mine to work. I sat at home again and dosed myself, wanting to suck up as much sleep as possible. I should note here that I was picking the worst time to quit smoking and had subsequently ripped up the last half pack of cloves and poured them into a bowl and set it on the counter in the kitchen. I caught myself lighting a few of the butts before I doused the bowl with water, leaving it on the counter as a testament.
So today I get Carson to get up with me at 7am (when normally he wouldn't get up until 10 or so, since he doesn't have to be at work until 2pm) and drop me off at work. When he put his keys in his car for the tow truck driver, he locked them in the car (doh!) out of habit. So when I got here, I had to get them out only to start the car up with no problems. Oh well. While the car was here, I might as well get the other things checked out. His trunk wouldn't close after a while and he was worried his CV joints might be going bad. Well the good news was that his CV joints were fine. The bad news is that he needs a new rack and pinion and steering pump, because it's leaking. The good news is that they don't have to be replaced right now but there's no real sign to indicate when they will need to be.
I was able to get the trunk lock re-welded (since from forcing it shut while on the Atlanta trip, we practically ripped the mount out of the sheet metal) for $100, and that's pretty good. Working in a body shop is often a good thing. And as much as I complain about it, working in a car dealership with a full service and parts department is also a very very good thing.
As I got into the car to go home, it wouldn't start. I tried jumping the battery. The interior lights came on, but nothing more than that. I got a bigger charger. No dice. I get a mechanic to tap on the starter with a hammer while I turned the ignition. Nothing.
Greg, remember when I just now asked for a battery for a 92 Taurus? Well, you got a starter back there, by chance?
I have to say, I love service technicians who work the late shift. We got out the little tractor and towed the car around, and right now a mechanic's popping that baby in for me.
You have reached the home of Laura Uhl. I'm either not at
home or online. Leave a message. Thank you very much. BEEP.
Yeah, Carson. If I'm not home by the time you get this, come to the dealership and bring some money. I'd say $100 would be good. We're putting in your starter. And oh, the parades are running in Metairie. You may have to find another way here.
Yep, that's right, the Mardi Gras parades run in the suburbs too. Ain't life grand?