Life Preservers

Ring a Ding Ding

Last week, due to a rattle in the car engine of my Sebring, I took it to the mechanic. He wasn’t 100% sure what the problem was but suspected the alternator. After doing some checking, he had discovered that Chrysler had seen a similar problem in their mini-vans, and the Sebring has the same alternator/same design as the Chrysler mini-van.

With fingers crossed a bit, we decided to replace the alternator.

And, so, with an appointment for this coming Friday and the car deemed likely drive-able, I began my Monday morning commute. November in Pittsburgh and it’s blue sky-sunshine gorgeous. I was clean, dressed, and on time. Traffic was light, and I had just emerged from the g.d.-stop-start-I-hate-to-drive part of my commute into the easy-breezy-I-love-to-drive part of my commute. I relaxed, I accelerated.

And it all went bat shit.

Every light on the dash came on and a bell ding-dinged, and the speedometer started bouncing like a windshield wiper. Then the speedometer flapped to zero and every light on the dash went out and the car lurched. And my heart flew up and over the first hill of a very high roller coaster.

Eyes darting for a place to pull over, brain squealing There’s no place to pull over!, it registered:   I’m still moving. I, uh, didn’t stall. Speedometer’s on zero and the dash lights are all out, but I’m moving.

And so I drove. And it settled down. The dash lights came back on. The speedometer bounced back up and stayed there.

Yes, truly, I did consider pulling over and perhaps I should have. But I was running pretty smooth. And it isn’t easy to pull over on the highway. And I was only about 20 minutes from the mechanic’s. And, if it was the alternator, I’d likely be okay if I kept her moving. And so I drove. And it happened again. Ding! Ding! Ding! Speedometer bouncing. Lights out. Car lurch. Roller coaster without the wheeeeee!

And again. And again. And again. I lost count after 20. But, hand hovering over the hazard light button, constantly on the lookout for a spot to pull over, I drove. And, each ding-ding-bounce-lurch-crap!, I was one more minute, one more mile, one more “I might make it” closer to the mechanic’s driveway. Murmuring sweet encouragement to the car, I drove. Trusting to the guardian angel clip from my Aunt Theresa, I drove. Off-the-exit, almost-there, c’mon-baby-c’mon-baby-c’mon you beautiful beautiful ba-by . . .

I made it.

Involuntarily quivering from neck to knees, fighting off the oh-no-girl-don’t-you-dare wet-blinkies, I looked at the mechanic, exhaled, laughed, and said, “It’s been a wild ride. I’m leaving her here.”

Now, the silver lining of this tale is that the lights-ding-bounce-lurch craziness confirmed for him that it was indeed an alternator problem. And he told me again about the Chrysler mini-vans, rolling his eyes, he said, “They tell me there’s no issue with the Sebring, but the Chrysler mini-van has this issue, and the Chrysler mini-van has the same alternator design as the Sebring . . . ”

So, it’s fixable. And the very nearby Enterprise Rent-a-Car, despite it being Monday, their busiest day, does have a vehicle left for me to rent. My adrenalin shifts into neutral as the nice Enterprise lady grabs a clipboard, comes around the counter, and says, “It’s right out front!”

And indeed it was. There, ready to roll, recently washed, engine running, sat my rent-a-car:   a Chrysler mini-van.

November 12, 2012 at 5:06 am Leave a comment

Hey Now

Running multiple errands on my lunch hour, I found myself backing out of a parking space in a mall parking lot designed by a schizophrenic whose every personality is a sadist, from in-between two SUVs that hadn’t been there when I first parked, into a thruway of moderately heavy car and pedestrian traffic. I was going slowly, inching out, and finally got a break.

Let me note here that there was a crosswalk about 6 spaces down, i.e., nowhere near my car but not so very far for a healthy adult to walk to. Let me also note that I had already paused for about 12 cars and at least as many J-walking (J is for jagoff) pedestrians during my inching out until one kind motorist (who may or may not have been more focused on the space I was vacating than on a random act of kindness but still) stopped and waved me out. I checked all angles, sides, etc., and eased back. As I stopped, still a bit more vertical than horizontal due to the length of the SUVs blocking my turning radius, to put the car into drive, some lady steps blatantly off the sidewalk at my rear-right fender (i.e., nowhere near aforementioned crosswalk) and walks directly toward the back of my car without varying her steps an inch, without hurrying, without pausing, without glancing in any direction. She did not veer from her path. She walked slowly. She walked haughtily. She did not even glance at me or perform any nod or wave or twitch that could maybe-possibly be interpreted as a thank-you or pardon me sort of gesture. She sauntered (Sauntered!) past my passenger window with about 3 millimeters to spare.

She was young enough to move faster. I’d say 30s. Heavy, overdone makeup. Overly styled hair. Clothes that screamed “the latest fashion” too loudly to be fashionable.

She was obviously someone VERY important.

The kindly driver had remained amazingly patient, along with about 10 other cars lined up behind him at this point and another 5 or 6 now coming in the other direction, and I was able to complete my back-up and drive on to my next stop, to pick up lunch at the Giant Eagle at the far end of the same mall.

As I drove, I marveled at the adult-sized morons bursting out of doorways, right off sidewalks, into traffic, talking on cell phones or blue tooth gadgets, texting, trailing children, and waddling like blind ducks with vertigo and I marveled that the news reports so few pedestrian injuries

I parked again and made my way to a crosswalk. I stopped. A car was coming and it did not appear to be slowing down for the cross-walk.  I made one of those mostly shoulder, fake steps, to make sure she saw me there, in the crosswalk. And she did, a bit suddenly, come to a stop. She saw me.

And, oh, I saw her.

It was the Sauntering Lady of Great Importance!

Nice.

I. me. thod. i. call. y. stepped. for.ward. mov. ing. through. the. cross. walk. step. by. step. star. ing. at. the. ground. and. mov. ing. so. slow. ly. that. it. was. hard. so. hard. to. keep. a. straight. face. step. by. step. try. ing. not. to. look. up. or. gig. gle.

And you know how it is when you’re trying not to smile. As soon as I stepped out of the crosswalk and through the doors of Giant Eagle, my oh-sweet-goody bit o’ secret revenge popped out into an eye-sparkling grin just as I lifted up my eyes into a direct line of sight with a good-looking delivery man who stopped his cart, took a Kramerly pose, smiled broadly back, and said, “Hey now! How are you doin’ today?”

Indeed. I’m doin’ fine.

May 7, 2012 at 10:16 am 1 comment