Last Thursday Justin and I were racing to class at the last minute, as usual, and we were having to drive separately because he was going to be staying in to work at Lovelace and I was going to come home after class. So I hop into my car and turn the key......nothing. No lights, no sound, no engine roar.........nothing. So I try again......nothing. Justin tries (I'm not sure why he tried but it seemed like a good idea at the time - perhaps I was turning something wrong ?!?).....still nothing. So we scramble to ride together, and I get in the car knowing that I have 3+ hours of nothingness to do after class. I also wasn't feeling well, and have developed a cold (NOT the swine flu) that is really weighing me down. After class we head to Lovelace where Justin goes to work and I take a 2 hour nap in the backseat of the Explorer. I spent the other 1 1/2 hours rummaging for snacks, drinking day old water, and spying on people. I didn't want to wait in the lobby of Lovelace with the sickies and besides the chairs are super uncomfortable.
We return home, try the car, and miraculously it turns on. Friday rolls around......same morning routine....same result - NOTHING! She (she being "Carla the Cavalier" - the valiant name I've dubbed my car) won't turn on again!!! Again we ride to school together, but I do NOT sit in the car today because the wait today would have been almost 7 hours. So I drop Justin off, drive home in the Explorer and get home to deal with Carla's shenanigans. I get in, turn the key, and she turns on. I drive her to our mechanic who immediately tells me it is the alternator, some pulley system and the battery needs to be recharged. I innocently assume this is a$20 job - nope $500!!!!!!!!!!!! Justin and I scramble to figure out what to do - we are both students and so we are on a pretty limited budget - but we know we have to get her fixed. So after much debate, ok HOURS of debate, I hand over our emergency credit card and let the chips fall where they may.
Our mechanic is an older Romanian man, the Romanian Red neck is what he calls himself, and he is rather ummm crude. He curses, smokes (while fixing your car!! impressive!!), tells crude jokes, talks about escapades with (fantasies of course) "babes," and says derogatory comments at the bat of an eye - but I like him. After listening to jokes, stories, watching a quick episode of "are you smarter than a 5th grader" with the Romanian redneck (don't ask) and some elbow grease, finally Carla is ready to roll. After 8 hours of dealing with this car on MY Friday fun day she has risen from the ashes like the mighty Phoenix!! Just when I revel in my victory and sit on the couch for some R&R I receive a text from my dear husband who I've forgotten all about. I scramble to the car as I realize he's still at Lovelace - 45 minutes later I arrive to pick him up and we both marvel at the car - I ask Justin, "Does it make you happy to see her fixed?" to which he replies, "Yes, but not $500 happy." Together we drive home to nosh on Ramen noodles and bologna sandwiches. I love you Carla.
