Let me set up the scenario, the past three weeks I have been housesitting in Provo for some friends. Nice right? I work in Orem, so the commute has been shorter and I have saved on some much needed gas money. Its all worked out so well, until Wednesday night that is.
I made a trip up to Riverton to do a few things, and on the way home, I noticed that my cab and dashboard lights started to fade and my headlights were slowly dimming. By the time I made it to Provo my battery was almost dead.
Well, I like to live in denial, so I thought, "Hmm, maybe if I just let it sit for a day or two, it will work once its had some rest." Of course trying to avoid that fact that usually mechanical objects don't start suddenly working after some rest and relaxation. Normally I call my trusty father or brothers for such matters, but they are enjoying life in Moab, or otherwise engaged. *sigh*
I borrowed my vacationing friends car to go to work the next 2 days, all the while thinking, "It will work, it will work." Though deep down I knew I was screwed.
Enter Saturday. I go to work, reject a few offers of help, go back to the house and cross my fingers. Luck has to be on my side. I turn the ignition hoping to have the soft purr of the engine hum in my ears, though all I received was an annoying clicking sound. Sweet. Most likely not my battery. Reality sinks in. I pop the hood, rummage around in the engine, not having a clue what I am looking for or doing, but hoping that maybe, just maybe some strapping young car savvy male will come jogging by and inquire as to what my problem could be. Lady Luck must hate me.
With my limited knowledge of the car anatomy, I was able to determine from my rummaging that the oil and coolant were low. Maybe if I fix that problem then my car would spring to life, apparently still in denial at this point.
I made my way to the male sanctuary of Checker Auto Parts, taking a deep breath of confidence to bolster my female inability to know what to look for, though I am pretty good at pretending. Or so I thought.
Selecting an oil, not a problem, been there, done that, 10W-30. Though the coolant was a new endeavor. After about a minute or 2 of mulling in front of the coolant section, the store attendant approached me, "Anything I can help with ma'am?" Ma'am?! I am like 2 years older than you. But I kept my mouth shut. Apparently I was spending way too much time in one section. Doesn't he know how women shop? We mull, consider, weigh options. That takes time. I reminded myself that this was a man's shop. Men come in knowing what they need, they grab it, tell a dirty joke and leave.
"No, I am alright." Grabbing the closest coolant and walking towards the check out desk. As I prepared to pay, I briefly explained the situation of my car to the young boy. He looked at me questioningly, "If its your battery or your alternator, why are you buying oil and coolant?"
I was caught. I stammered, "Well, I don't know for sure yet what the problem is, and these need to be filled anyway." I quickly recovered. Whew. He accepted that, then continued to ask me a series of car anatomy questions that I answered with a long string of "I-dont-knows" and "I'm-not-sures." He informed me that I would need to remove my battery and bring it in to be checked, who does he think I am? Macguyver?
I left feeling deflated and worthless. I filled the respective fluids in the truck, looked at the battery longingly, willing it to work and hoping against all odds that it is the cause of all my troubles. Alas, the truck is still relaxing in a BYU housing parking lot and I am stuck with impending mechanic expenses. All of my "saved" gas money will go right back to my truck. *sigh* Who knows? Maybe my truck will find some religion and be healed. Too bad luck is not on the side reality.