Adventures in My Mind
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May 16, 2004
Two Goth Kiddies saved our bacon ...
The battery in our van decided to die Friday night, stranding us in a parking lot in North Versailles. Luckily, a young man who just happened to be an auto mechanic student pulled up beside us. In his car was a brand new auto safety kit, complete with flares, yield signs, a flashlight, and, yes, jumper cables.
It didn't work, however. The van's engine and battery were much more powerful than his Buick Century. The van just could pull enough amps to turn over. We contented ourselves using the 800 number from his AAA card.
Our membership expired 2 years ago, but you can join over the phone and receive same day service -- for a $25 service charge of course. After billing $70 to the credit card a tow truck was dispatched. Reason? Dead battery, possible tow. We were assured that the truck was running on time and would be there within the hour.
Have you ever waited in a parking lot, in a broken down vehicle, with a 4 year old and a two year old and a 9 month pregnant wife, after bed time for everyone? May I recommend that you don't. Actually, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. Everyone handled the situation very well. Just don't try it yourself as results may vary.
After waiting an hour there was no tow truck in sight. Another call to AAA told us that the truck would be arriving sometime between 13 and 19 past the hour. Rather specific, huh? Well, at 18 minutes past the hour our driver pull up in front of us and hooks up the jumpers.
It worked.
Our next course of action was to drive straight to the Wal-Mart across the street and buy a battery for me to install the next morning. And we did. While selecting the battery, Sami calls me to tell me that the van had died again. The jump wasn't enough to keep it running. So now the job was to buy a battery and the appropriate tools to make the replacement in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
It is now nearly two hours after bedtime.
While purchasing my mini mechanics kit, I couldn't help but notice two Goth kids doing their shopping. He: tall, thin, pale, head to toe in black, shaved eyebrows, Frankenstein boots. She: pale, several thick layers of green eye shadow, hair teased to bewildering heights, micro mini skirt, stockings with little PVC bows, also Frankenstein boots. Not the average couple seen walking through a Wal-Mart late on a Friday night; but, hey, it's Wal-Mart.
I didn't have the right tools for the job. Well, I did, but the extraneous piece of frame positioned just above the positive battery terminal made it impossible for me to get the really cool crescent wrench in their to loosen the nut.
Back into the store for more tools.
Out again with a small closed-end wrench set. A 1/2" wrench fit the nut that held the battery in place. No problem. The terminals, however, were another story. 3/8", too small. 7/16", too big. It was around this time that I realized that the terminal connectors were metric. I had no metric wrenches. I prepared myself for yet another run into the auto department.
It was then that the same Goth Kiddies I noticed in the store came out to there car, which happened to be the one facing us. They saw the hood open and me hovering over the battery trying to maintain my cool over the half metric half standard sizes of the nuts and bolts in this little procedure.
They asked if everything was OK and if we needed any help.
I appreciated the gesture but couldn't for the life of me figure how they could help. "No, thanks," I said. "I'm just trying to change this battery with the wrong tools."
A few more minutes pass as they load their car and I try to jam the much too big crescent wrench between the battery and the extraneous piece of framework that Chrysler seemed to have installed strictly for my torture.
Finally, the Goth Boy - who looked much like Marilyn Manson without the makeup - walks up to me and says, "Are sure you don't need anything? She (gesturing to the Goth Girl) has a whole trunk full of tools."
Too easy I thought.
"Really? I need a #9 or #10 metric wrench."
"She's probably got it. She's got everything back there."
"Yeah, let's take a look and see what I have," she says.
I walk over to the car. It is filled with every type of Goth accessory, fast food detritus, and empty box of Marlboros imaginable. The numerous statues and action figures glued to the dash were my favorite. It was a macabre grouping of Catechism meets Todd McFarlane.
Goth Girl popped the trunk and handed me the tool kit from inside. I opened it to find the metric wrench I needed plus a standard 1/2" nutdriver to loosen the battery lock. Within 10 minutes the batteries have been switched and the van is powered up and running as good as new.
It was right about then that I started to feel a little sheepish for dismissing the help of Goth Kiddies the first time they asked. But, c'mon. How can you blame me. Would you think that a couple of youngsters dressed like vampires on their way to a rave would be able to supply with the exact tools you needed to change your car battery? I certainly didn't.
I replaced the tools and handed them back to Goth Boy. "Thank you very much," I said.
"No problem," he replies. "She's amazing."
Quite, I thought, while getting into the van.
Sami turns to me and says, "If you don't blog that, I will."
0 Comments | Link to this post posted by Teddy 9:39 AM
