Jan. 14th, 2010

skellywag: (Default)
So I go to leave work today, and I get in my car, and am faced with my first real car problem. Like, I've had a few issues before, because my car is not a new car, and there are always small matters of upkeep. It had to have the battery replaced, and at one point it ran out of steering fluid and the wheel went all tight and hard to steer.

But this time, I broke down completely. No level head for me. I put the key in the ignition, and it won't turn. At all. I seriously craned my head around so that I could look at the keyhole, to make sure I was actually turning it right, because these things are generally instinctive after you've done them a bunch of times, and if you screw it up you might not notice immediately. Or at least that was my thought. But no, I was doing it right. Or trying to, since it wouldn't actually turn for me. And that was the point where I also realized that my steering wheel was locked. So it appeared to be a problem with my steering column.

However, my analytical mind of not-very-automotiveness was saying "Oh, surely there is an easy solution to this. All I have to do is call my stepdad, and he can tell me what to do." He told me that I should spray WD-40 into the keyhole, wiggle the wheel back and forth, and try to turn the ignition. I did these things while still on the phone with him, and they didn't work. I tell him that I'll call him back in a few minutes, after talking to people at the hotel I work at, to see if anyone there knows anything about cars, or has more physical muscle than me, in order to manhandle my car into working again.

I get the cute computer guy to come over to my car with me, and he tries a few things, but to no avail. My stepdad calls back while we're messing with it, and tells me he's coming to pick me up. It's an hour and a half drive, and he has no cell phone, so if I manage to get the car working while he's on his way, I have no way to tell him to turn around, and therefore will have to wait here until he gets here. So I try to tell him to hold off, because I really don't want to make him come all the way out here. Not to mention, my mom is going to let me have it when I get home, because apparently this is somehow my fault. (It probably is, but I'm not sure exactly what I did to the car to cause the steering column to lock up, or I'd be damned sure never to repeat it.)

So I come back to the hotel lobby, and google the car problem to see if the internet had any other suggestions to offer. And basically, it just repeated the same suggestions that my stepdad had given me. So I went back out, and repeated the process of trying to wiggle the steering wheel, apply lubricant to the keyhole, but also rocking the car back and forth and stomping hard on the brake, because those also were apparently suggestions that might help. I have no idea what I actually did to make it work, if maybe the computer guy had started the process of loosening it up and I just finished the job, or what, but after a few tries, my car started.

So now I have to wait for my stepdad to get here. And have to tell him that half an hour after he left I managed to fix it by myself. And I'm pretty sure he will just be relieved that I got the car working, and won't be mad at me, though I'm sure he'll be irritated he had to drive all this way for essentially no reason. My mother, on the other hand, is going to be an insane harpy bitch when we finally get back. Because she wanted my stepdad to just leave me here. She absolutely hates it when my stepdad does anything for me. Even when I don't ask him to, like in this case, when I told him I didn't really want him to, though if I hadn't gotten the car started I wouldn't have had any choice.

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Skelly

September 2010

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