Yesterday was all about the animals. Today, we're back to our regularly scheduled programming. Which means, it's all about ME.
My car is a 1997 Nissan Altima. I've been driving it for almost ten years now, and it's starting to fall apart a little. In the last five years, I've had a lot of trouble with the battery connections. I don't know why, but they keep getting loose. This leaves me sitting in a parking lot somewhere, futilely turning the key over and over, hearing nothing but a very unhappy silence. Broken only by my cussing.
The first time I had this problem, my dad was with me. He figured out what was wrong, jammed a little nail in the loose connection to complete the circuit, and we were on our merry way. And of course, I drove around with that nail for weeks, because what's to fix? The nail works! What more do I need? Perhaps something that wouldn't fall out. Like the nail did. Leaving me sitting in the parking lot at the dentist's office, cussing.
Luckily, we only had one car at the time and a very small apartment, so my trunk was the storage space for all of A.'s fishing crap. This usually ticked me off, especially when I was trying to load groceries in the trunk and had to wedge them in next to the stinky waders and tackle boxes. But those tackle boxes came in handy when I began the search for a small metal item that could be jammed in the battery. I used a fish hook.
TOLD you I'm Ms. MacGyver.
Then yesterday, I came out of the Salvation Army (yup, I shop at thrift stores--wanna make somethin' of it?), turned the key, and was greeted by that ominous silence. I knew what had happened, and sure enough, when I popped the hood, the battery connection was loose. There was a guy in a pick-up truck next to me who watched me pop the hood and asked if I needed any help. I told him all I needed was a paper clip. He smiled at me with a condescending, pitying smile, and laughed. Then he watched me go back into the store to get my paper clip, jam the paper clip into the connector, snip off the top of the paper clip with the wire cutters I had fortuitously just purchased at the farm store, start my car, and zoom away. HA HA HA. Take that, you condescending MAN, you.
GIRLS RULE.
13 comments:
Totally impressed. I have no engine ability.
I'm trying to think of my best "boy" skill--I'm pretty good with the hay hooks, though I've not got much call to use them at the moment (moving bales--at least the old fashioned square ones--is much less about lifting than leverage.)
Also I have a pretty mean punch, thanks to a delinquenty friend from high school who though every girl should REALLY know how to punch.
Girls DO rule! Although, maybe just farm girls rule. I spent $270 yesterday getting my car fixed at Honda; they replaced two tires and sealed off two others. Or something; I just shake my head and say "how much?" All I wanted was a NYS inspection and have them fill my front tire, which was low.
I'm jealous of your skillz.
"And of course, I drove around with that nail for weeks, because what's to fix? The nail works!"
This part made me laugh because back in '96 or '97 I used to drive my ex-boyfriend's car around and the battery cables were so corroded that sometimes it wouldn't start (I think that's why--I'm no mechanic). I would pop the hood and bang on the battery and cable connections with some heavy object (usually a wrench) until the car started. Also some Dr. Pepper would usually eat away at some of the corrosion and ta da! Car started.
You are SUCH a woodchuck. I'm just glad it's not a a fuse you're replacing.
Very impressive. I would have just called Brad while sitting in the front seat, crying and feeling sorry for myself.
My best boy skill is definitely my filthy mouth. When I shock and/or gross out my husband, I feel actual pride.
Speaking of gross... my boy skill involves outside urination. Standing up. I learned it only for the bragging rights.
Gross. I know.
i've got massive boy skills which is to say none at all...
wait! i can throw a football... beautiful spiral throw but that doesn't count for much.
But Meadowlark, can you write your name in the snow? I don't even bother with the name ... I do smily faces.
Oh right, I am a boy. Not as impressive.
Oh yeah Kristin,
the president of NOW would be so proud of ya.
That's rad. You can be my hero any day.
I'd like to let you know that you freakin' rock. I have the same scenario every time I go to the hardware store..."No, I don't need your help. No, my husband's not going to be fixing the toilet - I am." Greeted by disbelief, of course. Gotta love it when we can prove 'em we're not all damsels in distress.
meadowlark, if you're listening, I've wanted to learn how to do that for years...
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