Then Again, There's THAT

hello, i exploded my car today.

wait wait wait... i totally just shot my wad in the first sentence of this whole blog entry... let me try and set the stage for you... play a little mood music, get the lighting just right... flip that dimmer switch, and throw some al green on the stereo. pour yourself a glass of something amber-colored and potent. slip into something loose, and easy, something that grazes your skin and makes you feel all relaxed, right down to your toes. you feelin' it baby? yeah... you feelin' it? that's what i like to hear. well listen up baby; i've got somethin' to tell you that'll blow, your, mind.

I EXPLODED MY CAR TODAY!!!

MUUUCH better.

for those playing the home game: we have woman, Sue, who is a sixty year old bat out of hell, born and bred in Texas, smokes marlboros to this day, and is currently on painkillers due to a car accident that was totally not her fault. when i say we "have" her, what i mean is that, partly because houses get dirty and partly because Sue needs a little more cash than she tends to get, my mom pays her to clean the house a bit once a week, and visit with our dog most afternoons of the work week.

now, at this point, i'm usually at home with the dog, all the freakin', day. but Sue still comes. the dog loves her. i like her, whatever, its cool.

so this afternoon, i get a call from mom. Sue's car has stalled out on her about ten minutes away from the house. she had been coming to say hello to the dog, who i have been letting inside and outside twice an hour for the entirety of the day. at the time of the call from mom, said dog (i suppose i could tell you her name is Emma. not a fan of the name, didn't pick it. don't blame me.) is stretched across every pillow on a couch in the living room, sighing like a lovelorn flapper on a fainting couch. and sometimes licking her crotch.

i throw the jumper cables in my '97 camry, grab my cell phone, and head of to rescue Sue.

i know nothing about cars. i am not mechanically gifted. no longer inept, but still not gifted. so i make sure to read the directions on the cables VERY CAREFULLY, because ever since driving school (ten years ago now, i think?) and mr. ayala telling us hooking up batteries incorrectly could result in an explosion, i have been very, very careful when i jump cars. because lets face it... me plus batteries minus careful attention to detail could very well equal BOOM! and BOOM! is something i like to avoid, generally speaking.

we hook up the cars, i start mine, and susan tries to start hers. it won't catch. i rev my engine a little bit, but she still can't get a jump. according to click and clack (the tappett brothers, based in boston. listen to npr at ten or so on saturday morning. then send me a thank you card.) her starter is probably out, so no amount of juice will get her going. that's my best guess anyway.

so we fiddle a little bit more, and i start my car again. she tries to jump her ford, and i rev my engine, perhaps, a little too forcefully. whatever the case, we know, we just KNOW, what happens next.

BOOM!

it was actually more like a THWUNK! to be honest.

the car shudders, and i'm suddenly able to see flames below the edge of the hood. my car, is on fire. my car is on fire. MYCARISONFIRE!!! actually, after a few seconds of "whoa...", i realize my first order of business is probably to turn off my car. so i remember how to do that, flip the key, and remove it from the ignition. the fire is already dying down. there's a lot of smoke though. but eventually that stops too. i can't be certain, but it looks like things in the hood might have shifted around a bit, and there's a massive spattering of oil all over everything.

Sue gets out of her unresponsive vehicle and we sort of talk for a few minutes on the subject of my having blown up my car. we watch the smoke billow away, and note that the attempt to jump her has failed. i call mom. she's free in thirty and can pick us up. i call aaa, and they say they can have a tow-truck there within forty-five. Sue and i chew the fat for a while, talk about the idiotic nature of Texas drivers, myself now possibly being included in that number.

mom arrives. she takes a look at my hood, gets Sue's things in her car, and drives her home while i continue to wait for the tow-truck. mom gets back, and we just sort of talk about things, and stare at my car.

when the truck DOES arrive, we're greeted by a skinny, spastic man who is missing teeth, which only further convinces me that he is in fact on meth, a suspicion i first arrive at when he tells us he's been working 22 hour days fairly regularly for a bit. (he's trying for a promotion.) he is both irritated, and amused at having to block traffic in order to dislodge my car from the shoulder, and he is certainly amused at my story, featuring as it does, flames and explosions and good deeds wreaking horrible, horrible consequences. when he moves my car, there is a puddle of oil on the ground under where the hood was, liberally peppered with chunks of metal, bolts still in their housings, now blown off of whatever they were once holding together, etc.

methy tried starting the car at first. the battery is absolutely fine, thank you very much. but the grinding and wailing sounds from under the hood didn't seem "right." so the car went off to the garage, and i went off to mom's office (she didn't have time to drop me home, and only had one more appointment) to drink diet dr. pepper and read vogue for an hour. yes yes, i am SUCH a fag...

so. the moral of this story would be, if you are jumping someone's car, do NOT, under any circumstances, rev your engine.

i don't actually know if that's the moral of the story. right now, i'm content just to HAVE a story. and really, i feel better today than i have for a few days. dad warned me not to get hooked on the rush provided by cars blowing up. i agree, its not an economical way to get rid of my blues. but still, the thought of sneaking into parking garages and blowing up random cars, every day, just to take the edge off... its holds some appeal. it really does.

and did you know that barry white was a virgo? its true! look it up! and who said we can't be sexy!?