Rough Start

Everyone has those days when you just can't seem to start up. You've been overworked and underpaid and you feel like you just can't start your engine. Well, today, Rusty felt that way. Rusty, as you all know, is my '89 Honda Civic. Let me start at the beginning.

I went to the movies with PinkPolish and wesaw Over The Hedge (By the way, best movie in the world!!!). Afterwards, we went to have some linner at Shoeless Joe's. After paying our bill, we went our separate ways. Me to Rusty, and PinkPolish to her Turbo. Unfortunately, Rusty wasn't feeling very co-operative today, and he wouldn't start. He just left me there in the parking lot. What a sonofabitch. I called my brother and he explained to me what the problem was. Apparently, my relay needs to be replaced (A relay is what sparks the engine to start). Mine overheats and when it does, the car doesn't start. He told me to open the doors and windows of the car and to let it cool off. After getting off the phone with him, I called PinkPolish and asked her to come back and keep me company while Rusty cooled off. And they say women are the diffcult ones. Sheesh.

So PinkPolish came back and tried to help me fix Rusty. I got my brother back on the phone and he tried to talk us through how to replace the relay. After locating the stupid black little box, we tried to pry the wires off it, but to no avail. PinkPolish did her best and so did I. We couldn't even find any men around the parking lot to help us. Where are all the muscley men who have souped up cars when you need them?

We finally gave up and I said I'm going to try to start the car one more time. At this point, PinkPolish gave Rusty a little booby love and....SUCCESS!!!! He roared to life! After releasing a sigh of relief, I thanked PinkPolish profusely, got into my car and drove straight home. Forget trying to stop for gas, Rusty would probably be a bitch and not start again.

At least now I know I have no sense of mechanics in me. If my car were to blow a tire or something, I would probably sit at the side of the road and cry like a little girl until someone stopped to help me, or rape me and dispose of my useless body in some deserted dump.

Once I got home, I sat in the car for a good 5 minutes screaming at Rusty and then I went inside and watched My Best Friend's Wedding. Come on, I needed a good pick-me-up after that ordeal. See, this is why I'm not in a relationship. I don't think I could handle the stress of a man. Having a car is enough trouble. It's almost as much work as one of those relationships. I mean, you have to invest time in it, maintain it, and buy it new things to replace the old ones. It also needs a lot of TLC.

What a day.