u s e y o u r h a n d s

I have four more payments to make on Cleo, my Subaru, my shagginwagon. And I’ve dumped several grand into her this year. For a new clutch after sacrificing the old one to the cause of teaching myself to drive stick. For some belt thing so the car would go. For a new alternator just to say I Love You. And then tires, etc.

Admittedly, I knew the battery needed replacing. But who’d have thought that it would go dead yesterday, one of the coldest days so far this winter? If Jesus knew, he didn’t tell me. So, I call Triple A, renew my membership, and wait for the guy to come. He came. And then I stalled, knocking out the engine again. I stalled because I DO NOT DRIVE STICK WELL. I fully admit this. I crunch the gears, stall, and pop into neutral all the time. I taught myself how to drive, so what can you do?

Anyway, it stalls. I get jumpstarted again. And then I turn left. And the car stalls in the middle of the turn. I jump out and begin to push the car. Someone helps out. And then he helps jump the car. At a stop light a mile from home, it stalls again, just inside a tow zone. I push the car back out of the tow zone and walk home. In a thin coat.

At home, I cry, liberally apply lip balm, and hop onto the computer to alert work. Then I wait for BRIAN! Brian, boyfriend of the gods, comes home and with his boy Spidey sense, tells me that there’s an auto parts store a mere jog down the road. We bundle up, head out, pick up the battery, and tools.

Note: batteries are heavy! And carrying them on the bus made me feel like a terrorist. I kept thinking that the bus was about to stop quickly, the battery would tumble to the floor, explode, and spray the unsuspecting passengers with disfiguring acid. But this paranoia was nothing compared to when Brian installed the battery in Cleo. I stood 10 feet back with 911 pre-dialed on the phone, just in case. No, not just in case. I was sure he would electrocute himself. I stood there, wincing, trying to remember CPR from my lifeguard training.

But nothing happened. The car turned right on. And then we went to Subway while on the phone listening to my brother Robby tell me about my other brother’s upcoming extradition to face federal drug charges. Ah, back to normal, safe in my car.