I grab the steering wheel and help him wrestle the car over to the shoulder--or what passes for a shoulder on Corrales Road. Great. Power steering is out. We're driving the afore-mentioned Plymouth Grand Voyager, 3.3 L engine, serpentine belt. I really don't want to see under the hood, but I open it anyway. Sure enough, the belt has jumped right off. I don't have power steering, but I also don't have a water pump, air conditioning or an alternator. Who thought up these stupid serpentine belts anyway? I wish they were right here with me, in the mud beside the road in a SNOWSTORM.
I start yanking on what pulleys you can reach on the 3.3 L engine they managed to shove into this unbelievably tiny engine compartment. All the pulleys are turning just fine. I'm gonna have to get dirty and get under this thing. Don't you know, the belt tensioner is hanging broken? Of course its something I can't fix beside the road in a snowstorm!
Anyone like to guess which mechanic is closest? Oh yes, your friend and mine, Caliper Guy. His shop is maybe 4 miles away, and I'm going to have to try to get there.
I start the car, turn off all the lights, radio, windshield wipers, heater, etc (trying to conserve the battery), and start down the road, keeping a careful eye on the thermostat. I got three miles down the road. I'm not kidding. I must have the world's very worst battery.
My sons, Dusty and Jesse, weren't daunted at all by that last mile. "We'll just push it," they announce, and jump out of the car. I'm laughing. Silly kids, the last mile is uphill. They don't get 50 feet before they are back in the car, groaning.
Just about that time, my boss drives up. He turns out to be brilliant, in that his car's bumper matches up to mine nicely, and he pushes us the rest of the way.
I pull up to the mechanic's bay, being pushed by the principal's Lebaron, in full view of Caliper Guy. I walk in and shake his hand. Now, its clear he remembers me, because this time he starts out calling me ma'am. I apologize for dropping in without an appointment, and explain the problem.
"Oh, and you'll need to charge the battery before you can get it into the bay," I add, helpfully. "I completely ran the battery down trying to get here."
Do you think he believed me? Do you think he went outside carrying a portable battery charger, or perhaps another battery? Of course not! He walked straight to the driver's door, got in and TRIED TO START IT! Again, I'm not kidding. After all I had done to patiently teach that man I am not an idiot, he tried to start a car he'd just seen being pushed into his yard and been told had a dead battery.
You know, come to think of it, maybe mechanics won't be the death of me after all. They say laughter is the best medicine, so perhaps I can look forward to a long and happy life....all thanks to my mechanic.
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| Of Mechanics and Mayhem Part 2 |
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