This morning, before sunrise, in the midst of torrential downpour, I retraced my tracks back to the Convention Center.
The Convention Center, where yesterday I had a great day volunteering at Wordstock. I worked the author signing area and it was a lot of fun. The last author signing was Scott Westerfeld and he was the most popular of the day. It took an hour to get everyone through the line, but it was worth it to stay late. He has a big fan base, people of all ages lined up.
It was the perfect day for a book dork like myself.
After we finished, I headed up to my car. My stomach was growling and I was cold and tired. I didn't eat all day and I left my coat in the car so that it didn't get lost during my volunteer shift.
Visions of burritos and margaritas danced in my head.
But Mr. Car had a different idea.
It wouldn't start.
It turned over but no spark. I chugged away at it for a few minutes and thought "Maybe it needs a jump."
I'm not a dumb girl. I've driven some real clunkers before so even I knew that if the car lights were on and it made noise, then it wasn't the battery.
But I called Auntie A and asked her to come help me. (Note: Auntie A and AM are the same person. I've decided to call her Auntie A now).
Auntie A backed her car up to mine, her crazy Saturn has the battery in the trunk. Strange.
But she said, as she hooked up the cables, "The lights are on. It is not the battery."
Having a car break down on a Sunday is a bad thing. Sundays are the worst for real life problems. God really screwed the pooch when he declared it a day of rest. What he really should have said was "And the seventh day will be the Lord's Day. Unless you are a mechanic, doctor, or banker. You have no day of rest. But you can wear your stretchy pants to work." I think comfortable pants fix a multitude of inconveniences.
In the end, I gathered a few belongings (I sort of live out of my car. It's like a really large purse. Or fanny pack.) and Auntie A took me home.
And I got about three hours of sleep last night while I was stressing about everything.
1. My car was parked on the street and starting at 6am, they would start ticketing cars. I needed to get a parking pass right away in the morning.
2. My insurance doesn't cover towing. Just a week ago I said "I should get AAA." I'm kind of psychic. Also, a week ago Auntie A and I were talking about unexpected windfalls of money and she said "Yeah but usually when you randomly have extra money, your car breaks down." She's kind of psychic, too.
3. I looked up the prices of new starters online. About $70 for just the part. But what if it wasn't the starter?
4. I have about four trips planned this fall. Montana, Chicago, Salt Lake, Catalina. But I can't afford trips if I have to fix my car. Plane tickets and gasoline are for the elite. I'm not even bourgeois. On a good day, I consider myself a member of the creative class. On a bad, a hobo.
5. Who will fix it? My family has always, always, always fixed my cars. I've never taken something to a shop. And despite extensive research on Angie's List, Google, Yelp, and word of mouth, I was convinced I was gonna get hosed by some tobacco chewing, butt-crack showing, Jersey talking a-hole.
6. I opened a new bank account in mid-September and their policy is to hold all deposits for 9 business days during the first 30 days of the account. I'm still waiting for two unemployment checks to clear. I'm being held hostage by financial institutions. Would I need this money for car repairs? The underside of my mattress is looking increasingly appealing. I'm willing to sleep continuously as a security measure.
7. Also, Duncan was arriving for some Bry Time at 6:30am but I was planning on being to my car at 6am to try to deal with the towing. Luckily, AA drank a thousand cans of Diet Mountain Dew last night and was more awake than a meth addict. He agreed to watch Duncan.
So this morning at 5:30 a.m, I headed out into the dark and rainy morning.
I got to the car and everything was still there. It still wouldn't start, but at least the window wasn't busted out and there were no tickets. I paid for some parking and then I sat in the car for a bit. I couldn't contact the towing company that was cheap and recommended by the mechanic shop until 7am or I would pay more. And I had to call the mechanic shop at 8am to arrange for service.
The seconds and minutes ticked by.
I was afraid to use my phone because I'm notorious for running the battery down and I knew I would need it all morning.
I decided to close my eyes for a few minutes and rest. My goal was to get a parking pass, which I did, so that I wouldn't get ticketed for parking while I waited for the tow.
As I was leaned back in the passenger seat, I became concerned someone would report me for sleeping in my car. So then I Googled Is it illegal to sleep in your car? Short answer: probably. But this Google search lead to me reading a lengthy blog written by a chronic hobo who lived in his car for years. He even went so far as to get a cover for his car and then he would climb under the tarp and live in the car hoping to fool passerby into thinking it was covered for vanity's sake.
As you read here, I love Google Image searches.
Car Covers:
Would you live under that?
or this?
I finally got out of the car, took the train to the mall and got some coffee and then I watched some ice skaters practicing at the mall rink (the same rink where Tonya Harding trained).
Once 8am rolled around, things actually moved pretty quickly.
Called K&M Auto Repair. No problem! Send the car over.
Called the towing company they recommended. No problem! Leave the key under the floor mat, we're in the area and will be there in twenty minutes.
Home by 9 a.m.
Then took a nap on the couch with Duncan.
The repair shop called when they said they would.
And no, it wasn't the starter.
It's the camshaft sensor. $400 for the parts and labor and a computer reset. Sounds made up, right? It's not.
I called my Dad.
And while he said the estimate might be a little high, it sounded on point. He also said it was possible they had to take apart a bit of the motor to get to the camshaft so that could account for the slight bump on the estimate.
So tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Car and I will be reunited.
And I will treat him so nice.
It will be like a first date at an expensive restaurant. I'll trot out all my good conversations (Your bumper is looking so fetch this evening).
And I'll give him a bath (Such shiny locks you have, Mr. Car).
And I will thank my lucky stars that I'm not going to the poor house over this endeavor.
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