There’s a mosquito living in my car. I will explain.
Last night, while out and about with a friend, my car wouldn’t start. I was like, “no, seriously” and tried to start it again. Nothing. There were blinking dashboard lights, crazy blinking (which was a bit unnerving, nothing like the “Knight Rider”), yet no whirr of the engine and total silence. I was slightly, shall we say, flabbergasted? My car is young. We met in 2006! Which was only 2 years ago! In the end, I was obviously too stunned to realize (the epiphany came much later) that it hardly matters what year we met or when she came into my life–cars have batteries and batteries fail. In this case, it was my battery. And so I called Triple A. While we waited for Triple A, we had to open our doors and get some air, what little air was middling about in the 90 degree atmosphere. This was when El Mosquito and his 18 friends took residence in my car.
We managed to kill his 18 friends. But the captain refuses to die. I saw him this morning, hanging out on my windshield. I nearly crashed my newly rejunevated car (more later) trying to kill him. His resilience makes me sick. And, might I add, that same resilience will have me scratching and fidgeting all the way to next year.
Regarding the newly rejuvenated car, Triple A has this grand thing where, if your battery is kaput, they’ll replace it for you for a fee. The idea of getting a simple jump start and having to take it to a shop this morning and all that was less than appetizing, so I gave him the OK. So it works and it starts. Woo and Hoo.