Showing posts with label Car. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Car. Show all posts

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Chasing Sanity

Chasing Sanity

I teach a college class to actual college people about how to be more intelligent. My particular passion is trying to get the students to understand the importance of perspective. A mantra throughout the class, as all would agree, was “What is important?” It’s been a life-changing view that I’ve adopted thanks to a three-year sanity-deprivation experiment with Arnos and Seth. I’m proud to have a sign hanging in my office that simply reads “Stay Focused.” And yet, if somebody cuts me off in my car, none of that means shit and that dickhead has to learn.

I was reminded of my kryptonite last week on my way home from work when I was not just cut off in the sense that somebody swiped in front of me – but somebody decided to make a right turn from the middle lane onto a narrow road right in front of me. I was in the right lane making that same turn, but legally and safely. What this guy did crossed whatever line I had drawn in my head about what is acceptable in traffic maneuvers. And justice MUST find its way to him.

First of all, I had no idea what to do. I didn’t want to swerve into oncoming traffic to try to get around him. That would make me the bigger dick, enabling him to go home thinking “what a dick” and discredit my entire venture. I also might die, which would discredit a lot of things. Though I did look into the glass eye of a witch and that’s not how I go. So what choice was I left with? Flashing my high-beams? That doesn’t seem like enough. And we were coming up to my turn. I had thought of nothing. But there was no harm in following him until I figured something out, right? I had nowhere to be. And this is when I probably went a little too far.

I noticed that the driver was likely male and the passenger likely female. There was also a smaller person in the passenger’s back seat, the seat I almost plowed into as the guy cut in front of me from the middle lane. It was a Subaru Outback with a roof rack (I think that’s a standard Outback feature). So I surmised it was a married couple with their teenage or younger daughter in the back. And once I made it up in my head that the father was willing to sacrifice the life of the two women in his life to dangerously take what I learned was really just a shortcut, I was determined to serve up whatever my convoluted head had decided justice was. Which I still hadn’t figured out yet.

Now, I’m a reasonable guy. Like I mentioned, I was just seeking justice. Not wrath or divine vengeance. A rook for a rook; let the punishment fit the crime. However, I thought it should be my job to make sure he didn’t do that again. And as fate would have it, I had a few minutes on my hands. I decided to follow this guy home. Mostly for lack of a plan. This decision was surprisingly easy to come to. All I had to do was really not figure out anything else before I was supposed to turn back home. Once I was already following him and out of my way, what was too far? And I wanted to go far enough to make sure he knew I was following him or else, the project would be a failure and he’d be turning from the wrong lanes for the rest of his life and he’d pass that onto his daughter. And I couldn’t have this happen on my watch.

So here are some of the disturbing, however logical thoughts that went through my head during the next 7-10 minutes while trailing this Subaru around the back roads of Silver Spring, Chevy Chase and DC. I wasn’t sure if they knew I was following them. At first. After all, all I knew about him was that he was a reckless driver to begin with. But once he started swerving through left turns, signaling without turning and speeding up to get through yellow lights (I may have run a red light), I think he knew. Yet, I knew I wasn’t going to do anything so I wasn’t scared. I think that fear was the rook I was looking for. However, I started to get frightened for a second. But I figured if they were going to do anything crazy like get out at a red light with a baseball bat, they’d probably all have to agree to it. If it were just one person, I’d run the risk of that guy being crazy. But there are three of them and for all they know, I’m crazy. Shit, I’ve been tailing them for the last 10 minutes. They’d better stay in the car and try to run me out of gas. My entire goal of this activity was to hopefully make this guy realize that the next guy he cuts off might actually be crazy and it’s not worth the risk to his family at this point. That’s all. I’m not unreasonable.

It was about then that I realized that they probably caught on and my job had been accomplished. I didn’t want to necessarily follow them to their driveway. Well, at one point I should admit that I did, and drive by slowly so they definitely knew, pointing at them and putting three fingers up in the air to just confuse the hell out of them. Three what? Three days? Three times? Oh God, what have I done? But I didn’t want to walk into an ambush and I likely still had plausible deniability on my side should the cops show up. Plus, we were back on a road name that I recognized. So I let them turn off onto their (or likely some random) side street in peace. But I do know their tag number now. Though I have no idea how the hell I got there, so they’re probably safe anyway.

I got home and had to tell Jen exactly what I’d done, but not before I had a couple beers. She asked if what I had done had scared me. I was like “no, I knew I wasn’t in any danger.” But I knew what she meant. I like to think I maintained my cool the whole time, or at least I like to pretend I did. I guess the point of all this is that you shouldn’t go around endangering the lives of others. And if you do, prepare to suffer the consequences. Rook for a rook. I’m bringing vigilante justice to the roadways of the Greater Montgomery County area.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Like a Good Neighbor: The 10th Day of Giftmas 2009

Like a Good Neighbor: The 10th Day of Giftmas 2009

My life has been fairly blessed over the past five to ten years with one very obvious and distinct exception: my Sisyphean automotive life. The car gods have been making me roll a Buick up a hill, only to forget to set the emergency brake and watch it roll back down again every night. So maybe they’ve had a change of heart. Or maybe the god of the law of averages finally took over. Either way, I was just given a huge gift in the form of a fender bender last month.

Now I realize a car accident typically doesn’t qualify as a gift. It was the first thing in the morning, I was confused, and it wasn’t even a hot chick that hit me. It was some old guy in an Explorer used the front end of my Civic like a ramp. He was backing into a parking spot with apparently no knowledge that I was just sitting behind him, desperately trying to find my horn. On a 1994 Civic, the horn is located in two small buttons by the thumbs. I spent way too long desperately beating the air bag hoping it would honk, as I was not practiced in activating the stupidly-placed horn strips. By the time I looked down at the gear shift, the Explorer had already explored the hood of my car.

No one was hurt as this all happened at about 2 MPH. In fact, very little damage was actually done. My headlight was scuffed up a bit and the fiberglass was cracked. After a couple days of talking to the other guy’s insurance, an agent came out to inspect it. He left saying simply “We’ll mail you a check next week.” That was it. No mechanics, no lawyers and no bullshit.

I had completely forgot about it until I got the check a couple weeks afterwards. I figured on about a couple hundred bucks. $1004.46! Thank you, State Farm! And there’s no way I’m going to ever need that for the car. A little windex and a green sharpie and you can’t even tell anything happened. I figure that it knocks the resale value down a bit, but that doesn’t matter with me. I’ve run every car I’ve ever owned right into the ground, most of them literally. I’ve owned 5 cars before this one and I haven’t sold any of them. Unless you count scrap heaps. So this is basically free money. I’m going to start to look for people in tall cars and follow them around the city until they need to park. I figure if I can do this once a week, I can make a decent living and finally afford to quit my day job. I don’t know why more people don’t do this.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Lost in Transmission & Rating Things That Are Wrong With My Car

Lost in Transmission

For those of you interested, not interested and those still unsure, my second search for a vehicle in the last 10 months is over. It concluded with a stylish 4-cylinder 97 Civic. Thank God I already have a girlfriend. I’m just glad the search is over. I do this way too often. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t hate it with the passion of a thousand island dressing (I may have misunderstood that saying). Seriously, the act of looking for a car is up there with waterboarding for me. Strap me down to a chair and force me to look for a cheap but reliable vehicle that is Maryland State inspected and I will admit to shit that I did not do. So in an effort to maximize the time between now and the next time I’ll have to deal with this shit (and with that girlfriend card firmly in my pocket), I decided to stick within the Honda and Toyota families - not that the concept of buying a car from one of 7 different companies who have gone bankrupt and will cease to manufacture replacement parts isn’t appealing. Though I did occasionally take a peek at the Wranglers around the area. But I was able to fight through it thanks to my mantra: “What would a grown-up do?” “Buy foreign, and throw away your Weird Al t-shirts.” I didn’t even ask for that second piece of advice, thank you subconscious.

So why am I buying my second car in under a year? Well, I’ll give you half that story now. If you haven’t heard about the exploding jeep, you’ll have to wait. But it forced me into buying a car cheap and quick when I moved to Maryland in August. Basically, the cheapest car I could find that was Maryland State inspected on craigslist. And so I got my $1300 Sentra. It started to accrue so many problems in so little time that it was evident I’d never be able to sell it again. It wouldn’t pass inspection, it wouldn’t pass emissions, it wouldn’t even pass a moped on the sidewalk. I found myself wishing that something would go wrong with the engine or transmission just so I could justify getting rid of the damn thing. Well, I got my wish about a month ago.



Things That Are Wrong With My Car

Driver’s Side Window Stuck Up – This is especially annoying at drive thrus and toll booths. It actually used to just make this metallic grinding noise about halfway down (and up) and you just had to push (or pull) it the rest of the way while holding the button down. I had gotten good enough at it where I rarely got my fingers caught in it on the way up, when it just stopped altogether. Honestly it’s probably better that way. Thankfully, this has nothing to do with the performance of the car but God forbid I get pulled over and have to explain that. C-

Exhaust System Banging Against Gas Tank & Back of Car – The literal day after I bought the car, it started making this banging noise. Turns out the guy who sold it to me had basically glued the exhaust system together long enough to fool me into buying it. After Jamie (my nephew daddy) helped (he did it – I helped) find another tailpipe and fasten it on, it was rigged to only bang against the gas tank rather than have a hole in it. But it still wouldn’t pass emissions and it made the same annoying noise and now we added a much higher risk of explosion for a part that has nothing to do with the performance of the vehicle. Thankfully I met Jen before she ever saw the car. C+

Brakes Are Broken – So I went to my mechanic the last time to get new front brakes because every time I tried to stop, the car pulled to the right and smoke started coming up from the front right tire. I figured that was bad. So the mechanic replaced the front brakes and told me that the rear cylinder was leaking so bad that he recommended that I either replace it or I don’t drive for more than another “two days” with that car. Well, I wasn’t about to shell out $500 for a car that probably wouldn’t sell for that. And so I took those two days and just drove for another 2 months with one hand on the emergency brake. A worthwhile non-investment. B

Faulty Transmission – Finally, something that I can’t overlook. The car won’t get out of first gear. I came to this realization on the Capital Beltway. This is the second car of mine that died on 495. It’s not a very forgiving environment. In fact, I had to put my left turn signal on to ensure everybody would try to pass me on the left so I could get off the highway on the right. So it is dead. But I managed to get the car back home and I know of 4 or 5 used car & junk lots I could actually drive the car to in first gear. Better than a hole in the engine. But not by much. D-

Missing Windshield Gasket – I was driving up 83 after work when I saw the rubber gasket that went around my windshield blowing in the wind. Before I had any other thoughts, it went flying off onto the highway. Now I’m sure it’s not an expensive part, but it seems like an important one. Right now, gravity is the only thing keeping my windshield on. While I don’t expect gravity to ever stop working, it would be nice to have some insurance. And duct tape is apparently not the answer. Duct tape is like Superman tape that will stick to anything – but rain is it’s kryptonite. So I’m living without a gasket, which will only matter in the case that gravity ceases to work or if I flip my car into a position which gravity cannot help it stay on. Either way, I got much bigger problems than my windshield. B+

Buying foreign and wearing polos,

Honda D.


Still Standing Right Here…


QOTD credits (7/1/09): John Chapin - (Thank God you already have a girlfriend)

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Rating Stuff That Trashed the Resale Value of My Car

Stuff That Trashed the Resale Value of My Car


The Hood Doesn't Latch - OK, it's not quite as dangerous as it sounds. One of the latches is broken, so it sits up about two inches from the hood and bounces up and down when the car moves. I'm fully convinced the hood will never become unlatched and fly up in front of the windshield when I'm driving, but I was a film major who once put oil in the steering wheel fluid tank. What the hell do I know? It really just adds to the over Mercury Tracer-ness of the vehicle. C+

Warped Piston in the Motor - This is a complete guess, but it's not mine. It's Goodwrench Joe's assessment of the noise coming out of my engine. It kinda sounds like if you dropped a bolt in a blender and set it on puree. It's been over two years, so I don't think it's ever going to really matter and it doesn't really affect the performance of the vehicle. The vehicle affects its own performance enough. It now just sounds like a science experiment from the outside. Which sucks for dates. I have to make sure the car is always off when she is outside the vehicle. Or I have to coast down to her apartment if she's already outside. Or I just have to get a new fucking car. A-

The Back Door Doesn't Open From the Inside - I call it my cop car feature. Cespos calls it something else that I won't get into in mixed company. But it makes for amusing times when somebody actually sits back there, which is hardly ever, because we usually forget about them and they have to sit there the rest of the evening until we get back. Fortunately, this is probably something that will be overlooked if I try to sell my car. B

Interior Lights Don't Go On - I already talked about this when I mentioned the whole running out of gas thing. Again, I imagine I'll be selling the car in the daytime, so it will probably go unnoticed. But you can't read the gas gauge, the speedometer or any other dial that's up there once dark takes over. But thankfully, the battery light still works. Which is another problem. Cause I know what to do when the gas light comes on, believe it or not. But what do you do when the battery light comes on? I think you just stay the course, cross your fingers and hope you don't have to call Leigh to pick you up in the Heroin District of Philly. I'll consult the manual to make sure. D+

Broken Gas Cap - This one is sorta recent. It was actually the fault of stupid gas can I overpaid for. Somebody turned what could have been very easy into the most difficult procedure since time travel was invented. I really think you needed three hands to work the thing properly. To this day, I still believe the only answer was to kick the fuck out of the gas cap. B+


So I not-so-recently started using AIM again (BumpSetNet, please write me. I only ever talk to the same three people on there). I am starting to see the merits in it now that I've developed the habit of falling out of touch with all my friends in non-predictable 3 month intervals. Well, I'm sure I don't need to describe how it works to all of you out there, so here's a conversation between Mikey and me that may have invented a new word I'm going to use...


Quote of the Day 2/22/05


MJConover7: Guess you just IM'd me.
BumpSetNet: ?
MJConover7: Guess *who* just. . . .
BumpSetNet: ok, that makes more sense
BumpSetNet: and you can't even really call that a typo
MJConover7: it was a "think-o"

Thank God there's a new word for it. I've been calling them "Dustins."


Happy Birthday Ma!!

Sonfish.


Still Standing Right Here...

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Rating Times I've Run Out of Gas

Times I've Run Out of Gas

I'm not proud of it, but I've run out of gas at least four times in my life, each of them worse than the last. Except the third one. That's tough to top. Anyway, here are the stories of these events. All dates approximate.


Sun, Jan 24, 2001 1:00am - I-95 on my way back to UMBC from PA on a Sunday night. I ran out of gas somewhere around Aberdeen and this predates my ownership of a cell phone. I had no idea which way was the closest exit, so I just started walking forward. After about a mile, my ankle reminded me that I had just ruptured my Achilles tendon about 4 months ago. Some random guy stopped saw the car about a mile back and saw me limping toward the exit in the freezing cold and put two and two together. He picked me up just as I was getting to the exit and drove me to get gas and a gas can and drove me back and wouldn't let me give him any money. He just made me promise to help somebody else out someday. And that was 5 years ago now. Wow. I just made myself feel like an asshole. Well, it was a cool ending, but lacked the drama some of these next ones come with. B-

Sat, Aug 5, 2002 4:00pm - Route 1 just off I-195. Tony had just told me that his car got 400 miles to the tank and I wanted to try to see if my car could. I pushed it a little too far. On the plus side, I got just over 400 miles. On the minus side, I got about .25 miles less than I needed. I stalled out on my way down the exit and coasted to a stop on the way up a little tiny bridge just on the other side of a gas station. And nowhere to go. Fuck. I couldn't drift far enough back to get on the shoulder and I couldn't push it up either hill. So I shoved the car as far over as I could so only about half of it was in the right lane. Then I started to run to the gas station only about a 1/2 mile away. Meanwhile, some hick in a pickup truck stopped to pick me up and help me out. I really didn't need it, but I didn't want to belittle his attempt to help, so I obliged and got in the cab with his son. He drove me the rest of the way to the station and I filled up a new gas can (cause I never keep them) and he drove me back to my car, making racist comments the entire time I was with him. It wasn't much, but I thought I'd offer him a few bucks to show I appreciated his help and to help his kid realize that good deeds go rewarded. He took it. Jerk. Exciting place to run out, but not a great conclusion. Though it was an idiotic reason to run out of gas in the first place. B+

Mon, Dec 27, 2004 1:00am - Ben Franklin Bridge. OK, I'm coming back from a Jersey bar after watching a meaningless Eagles game with Kevin, Leigh and a few friends. I took my parents car because mine doesn't really have heat. I did not know that the gas gauge reads 1/8 of a tank when it's really empty. So it starts to putter out just as I got to the tolls and I think "OK, I'll just get gas as soon as we get into Philly." Well, Kevin and I make it halfway up the bridge and... pfffftt. That word was supposed to represent the car running out of gas. This is very dangerous. I'm on a bridge in a car going over the Delaware River and all of a sudden, well, I'm not on a bridge in a car going over the Delaware River. But all the cars behind me think I am. Little do they know that I'm on a bridge in a car sitting still about 1/2 a mile above the Delaware River. So I put my blinkers on to signify to all the buses coming up on our ass at 60 mph (if you're my mom, stop reading this now) to get the hell out of the way, there's a big problem. And I definitely lost my cool. I was in fear for my life. Kevin, meanwhile, was writing a country song about it. Well, he was at least more relaxed than I was. I came up with a plan I thought was best at the time, to drift backwards down the bridge into Jersey to at least get onto a shoulder near the toll booth. As I'm doing this, a cop came up behind me. Thank God. I've never been so happy to see a cop before in my life. He puts his lights on and parks behind me. He comes up to the car and asks if I've been drinking. "Drinking?!? I'm out of gas halfway up the Ben Fucking Franklin Bridge and you're asking me if I've been drinking?!? Who gives a fuck?! Yeah, I've been drinking officer, I've been drinking gas and I'm out. Now can you give me a fucking hand?!?!?" Actually, I think I said something like "no." He tells me to put the car in neutral and he'll come up behind and push me to safety. Brilliant! He even did it free of charge! So I was ecstatic when I got to Philly and pulled over. He asked if I had a plan to get out and I lied and said yes and he left. Whew! Thank God that was over! So I start to wander into North Philly to look for a gas station while Kevin gets the guitar out of the trunk and gets back to work in the car. I call my dad, who notifies me that I had just walked into like the heroin capital of Pennsylvania and tells me to get the hell out of there. So I do. This also happens to be the coldest night of winter to date and I'm in the middle of the city with an elf-looking Eagles hat on. And I'm with a guy dressed like a cowboy. I still can't believe I didn't get mugged. Well, thank God for cell phones. I called Leigh, who met me at an intersection I thought she could find and we did the part I've become a seasoned expert at by now. Elapsed time from running out of gas to leaving the scene = 2 hours. Danger factor = about as high as it can get. Other elements - freezing cold, heroin district, faulty design in gas can. A+

Mon, Jan 17, 2005 4:00am - In front of Mike's place. (mom, you can start reading again) Mike and I had just gotten cheesesteaks in Philly and I was about to drop him off and go home. I knew I needed gas soon, but I didn't know how soon (all the interior lights in my car don't work - kind of romantic, very unhelpful). I figured it could wait until I dropped him off and I'd get it on the way back. Well, it might have, had we not sat in my car talking for about an hour. All of a sudden, pfffftt. Not again. Fucking twice in a month. At least I'm in a parking spot in front of a friend's house who happens to have a car and doesn't need to be at work until 5pm the following day. So we drive to my parent's place and get the gas can that still has some gas in it from my parent's car (which it never made it out of) and drive back to Mike's place. Easy enough. Except for the faulty gas can that Kevin never showed me the trick of last time. So while I spilled gas all over the finger of my glove (and none in the tank), and kicked the gas cap so hard it broke, Mike was diligently pouring the gas into his water bottle and pouring the water bottle into the tank. The shit you learn when you get a history degree. The danger factor was as low as ever, but the idiocy factor makes up for it. As well as the fact that I'll have to think about it everytime I get gas now, since the cap is broken. C+


I'm pretty sure I got ripped off by the gas station in Philly for the gas can. It's kinda like a tow truck. They can overcharge, because they know you need the service. I have an idea for a way to make my millions. But anyway, I was pissed about it...


Quote of the Day 1/18/05



Me: "What kind of a place charges $9.00 for a gas can?"
Leigh: "What kind of a 30-yr-old man runs out of gas?"


OK, Rende. You win this round.


Running into the sun but I'm running behind,

D Rec.


Still Standing Right Here...

Tuesday, September 7, 2004

Rating Unwritten Ethical Violations of Passing Other Cars

We're going to pretend it's Tuesday and do the ratings thing:


Unwritten Ethical Violations of Passing Other Cars


Not Letting Someone Merge Onto the Road - Otherwise known as the "overaggressive spot-holder." I think this one pisses me off more than any other ethical traffic violation. In fact, I think this one is up there with getting into an elevator before I get out of it as my number one idiotic pet peeve. I can understand the riding of the next car's bumper if you are part of a chain of cars driving in the left lane and I'm trying to break into the chain to get around a guy in the middle lane. But when you see me coming onto an on ramp from another road and you refuse to let me into the right lane because you want to hold your spot in line is fucking intolerable! I swear to God this one lady would have rather ran me into the guard rail at the end of the merge lane than let me into her lane. And every next car in line was doing the same thing. This is why I think each car should come with a gun with one bullet. Traffic would flow a lot better that way. F

Driving Slow in the Fast Lane - Some people just haven't figured it out yet. The further left you go, the faster you have to drive. Why wouldn't you be able to do this? And I'm not talking about when it's crowded and confusing. If I have the ability to pass you on the right, you should get the hell out of my way in the first place. I'm not flashing my brights at you because you have a tail light out. And one day when I was particularly pissed off, I decided to get in front of this guy and sit down and see how slow I could go before he'd pass me on the right just to show him how annoying it was. Well, I got down to 30 on 95 and he waited me out. I don't get it. D

Passing On the Right - I can justify this action if it's not abused. Especially if you have an asshole doing 45 in the fast lane. In fact, it's a written law that you have to stay right in New Jersey (that's the only good thing NJ can be referenced for). Of course, it's also a law that you can't pass on the right in NJ. So if somebody’s driving slow in the left lane and you pass him on the right, you are both at fault? They mean well, but they still can't get their shit together. B

Speeding Up When Somebody Tries To Pass You - This is another strictly asshole move. If you wanted to be going that fast, you should have been doing that the whole time. Don't speed up just because you are being threatened as the fastest car on the road. This is like the traffic version of penis envy. What's your damn problem? There's no need to concern yourself with me. D-


Quote of the Day 9/7/04


"I'm sure she's nice. She's just not nice to other people."

-Katie Kraus


That's Katie's version of a compliment.


Passing on the shoulder,

Extendo.


Still Standing Right Here...

Thursday, March 18, 2004

Braking, Breaking, Broken

Braking, Breaking, Broken

I'm gonna tell this story from my perspective, because that's the way it happened to me.

I was in our new hangout called Fox & Hound with Kevin, Erick, Mike, and this girl Allison I barely just met. Anyway, we were playing pool and Kevin was in the off rotation and decided to take this chance to go to his truck and get his pool stick. About 5 minutes into the game I just started, Kevin comes running in and hits me really hard in the shoulder and says "get the fuck out here" or something like that and immediately turned around and started running back outside. Now, Kevin has never steered me wrong so I don't question it and just start running with him through this crowded pool hall, through the bar on my way outside. So I'm figuring we're going to fight for whatever reason. Maybe somebody stole Kevin's pool cue or broke into his car or hit on his bartender, whatever. So I'm mentally prepping myself for this fight. While I'm on my way out, I hear over the loud speaker throughout the entire bar "Can the owner of a maroon station wagon please come to the front desk. Your car is rolling through the parking lot." So it's embarrassing enough that I drive a station wagon, but now it's broadcast all through the building. Not only that, but now it's drifting through the parking lot somehow. And I'm running through the bar/pool hall behind a guy in cowboy boots and everybody is staring at me. So now everybody knows that I drive a station wagon with a faulty emergency brake. Apparently, the brake isn't strong enough to prevent the car from rolling when it isn't pulled up. I should really write to the manufacturer about that. It's a hazard for people who occasionally forget to put their emergency brakes on. Thankfully I was smart enough to park in a spot uphill from someone who was fortunate enough to have a parking brake that functioned properly. When that guy left, however, my car started drifting toward the owner's Beamer. Seeing this, the host of the restaurant ran out to try to stop my car. Seeing the host yell "Holy Shit!" and run outside to catch my car, Kevin also yelled "Holy Shit!" and ran out to help him. With his cowboy boots providing just enough traction to help the host, my car was caught just in time to not cost me like $13,000 in damages to the overcompensating owner of the bar (and car). Having stopped the car and not being able to really leave or move, Kev did what anyone in this day and age would do. He called me on his cell. I did not answer. When enough people found out what was going on, a few guys held the car so Kev could come get me. And that's where I last left you. So now the girl I just met and the cute waitress knew I drove a maroon station wagon with that faulty emergency brake. Thankfully I didn't have a shot with either of them anyway, so that brought a little piece of mind. If nothing else, I can always look for a little piece of mind by counting the women I don't have a shot with.

So when we got back to the pool table and I had gotten into my car and put the brake on, etc., Allison asked us what had happened. We recreated the story I just recounted for you but with 4 people telling it in a broken-narrative, Dustin-degrading sorta way...


Quote Of the Day 3/18/04


Kevin: "Shit like this always happens to us."
Allison: "Your cars always coast through parking lots?"


Well, maybe not shit EXACTLY like that.


Searching for telepathic brakes,

Drifting Cricket.


Still Standing Right Here...

Monday, February 3, 2003

Literal Highway Robbery

Literal Highway Robbery

I know a lot of you out there live vicariously through my idiocy, so I apologize for withholding that from you for so long, but you will have to wait no longer. What really cracks me up about this story is that I knew how stupid I was being, and I chose to see if my good luck could outlast empirical facts. Well, here's what happened:

I was driving my car back down from PA in the dark. I got somewhere around 45 miles from home and I noticed that the lights inside my car were dimming. I thought nothing of it. Well, about 10 minutes later, I noticed that the faintest of lights on my clock read 12:02 or so and it was only about 10:00. And the road was well lit, but I noticed that there wasn't really any visual difference outside the car when I turned my lights on and off. This became increasingly more evident as I turned off 95 to a gas station. As I had guessed would happen, the car would not start once I shut it off. It was the battery. No brainer. So I had Steph come pick me up and we'd take care of it the following day. So here's what I call "taking care of it." The next day, Steph drove me there in the day (when I didn't need lights) and I'd drive home without the use of anything that would require my battery. Deep down, I knew this wouldn't work, but on the surface, I was brilliant! So we drove about 5 miles down 95 and got stuck on the shoulder when my engine just shut off. So we broke down and went to Walmart to buy a battery and tried to install it. When we returned, I hit a snag that took me about half an hour to put in the battery. By now, it was pouring rain. Once I got the battery in, I fired her up and we were ready to go. Even if it was the alternator (which recharges the battery as you drive), I figured I'd be able to make it back home to my own mechanic before I needed it recharged. Well, that's not how alternators work. They actually suck the juice out of the battery and give it to the car. So about ten seconds after I started the car, nothing. We tried to jump it and the patrolling service vehicle tried to "hot shot" it to no avail.

So now I was stuck on the side of 95 instead of in a gas station. And I'd reached the end. I needed to get the car towed. And when the guy showed up, he priced it at $170 just to take it to the nearest garage. I wasn't exactly in the position to shop around, and I think he knew that. And from what I could tell when I asked him how much it would cost him to take it all the way down to Baltimore, he was just making shit up. And why not? So I had to fucking pay it. And the $400 for the alternator core. So I was bitching about the tow cost on the way home...


Quote Of the Day 2/3/03

"No shit. That's highway robbery... Literally."

-Steph


Which makes you wonder... how did they come up with that term?


Identifying the cost of stupidity,

Dumbstin.


Still Standing Right Here...

Thursday, November 16, 2000

Negative Hour Man

Negative Hour Man

Well, I finally found out why the car I bought cost $1000 less than every other car in the lot. I have hit every combination and sequence of buttons possible and still can't turn the damn clock back an hour. I knew I shoulda waited another 3 weeks to buy the thing. So now I'm constatly doing math trying to figure out what time it is in the car. That math being subtracting 1 from the hours column, but it's still math. So I'm just gonna have to live with the math for another 5 1/2 months. That, and the car won't start when it's under 40 degrees. I'm naming the car Buccaneer. (Only really nerdy football guys will get that one.)

So anyway, Tony and me and probably somebody else or two went out to Bennigans a while back and I ordered the Buffalo Shrimp, which was common to me, as I've worked there for a while, but Tony had never heard of it...


Quote Of the Day 11/16/00

"Buffalo Shrimp? What's that, like Doug Flutie on a bun?"

-Tone-Sarcastic


They mock because they're jealous. And because the guy's really freakin short! I can't believe his mom let's him play football.


Always an hour ahead,

Negative Hour Man.


Still Standing Right Here...

Thursday, September 28, 2000

Still Stranded Right Here

Still Stranded Right Here

Every now and again I get that "you need to get your car fixed" slap in the face by Mother Nature, Father Time, Lady Luck, or Jason Geography. The trip to Laurel & Mardy, M.D. was the most recent altercation by Mom and Jason collectively. I was running late, even for Dustin time, so I had to take the handicap spot right in front of the building rather than my normal spot around the other side of the building on one of the better hills I've ever seen. I parked and did that "Ah, I'll deal with it later" thing. Well, I left the office, and later had arrived, and no solution had presented itself in the meantime. I was hoping it was on enough of a hill, which it wasn't, or that it was dry enough out to get a little traction with my opposite foot to push the car out, which it also wasn't. I was turned around in my car facing backwards (because I need to push with my right foot), and trying desperately to get the thing out far enough so I could put it in D and take off. But I kept slipping and the car would drift forward the 8 inches that I had pushed it backward every time. I was helpless and looking like a damn fool in front of two ladies out on the benches taking their smoke break. So now what? Well, after Jason and Ma had had enough of a laugh, Dad sent a guy out of the building that was apparently in the lobby watching the entire bitchslap take place. He helped push the car out as I played the part of "I have no idea, it worked yesterday." And by the way, if any of you work for Progressive Auto Insurance, I'm just kidding.

It poured rain last Monday, which is why it was all wet out on Tuesday when I tried to get my car out of that heathenous parking spot. Well, Russ was out playing soccer in a pick up game like the idiot that he is. He came to sit down on the bench after having been in the game. I offered him to get under my protective umbrella, but he refused...


Quote Of the Day 9/28/00

"Eventually you just give up and become one with the shitty weather."

-Russ Dog


I think there was a little too much zen in that statement for commentary on a minor rainstorm.


Stuck in the perpetual thunderstorm of broken transmissions,

Squeegeed Cricket.


Still Stranded Right Here...

Monday, July 17, 2000

$4 Bills

$4 Bills

So my car no longer goes in reverse. This is quite possibly the most amusing anecdote of any car I've ever had. There was that Chevy Spectrum that wouldn't start, which isn't really amusing at all - then there was that 3 month period of time in which my window was stuck down (and another window got bashed in while that one was down). That one rivals the new problem, but falls a little short in the end. First of all, you could possibly go a few days without realizing you don't have reverse at all. In fact, I think I did. But I'm not a very bright man. The one advantage the non-reverse thing has over the non-window up thing is exactly that. Dates. I could manage to go out on a date and not let on that my car doesn't go in reverse. Especially if I scout out the place beforehand. The toughest hurdle to clear is the parking issue. There are two options. One is to make sure I get a pull-through spot. That way I can pull in and out without needing the option of reverse at all. The other option is to park on an uphill. That way I can use nature to make my car go the way it needs to but won't otherwise. I'll just have to find creative answers to questions like "Why are we parking so damn far away from the restaurant?" The third option is to get her to push the thing. If that needs to happen, the gig is up. Not only is it unromantic to get her to push the car while you steer, but it's an 84 Cutlass Supreme. They're pretty fucking big. "Hurry up and run around and jump in while we have the momentum!" I'm definitely not getting lucky that night. But the window down in the middle of November is a hard one to get around. "I like freezing my ass off. I just assumed you would too." "The wool hat is a fashion statement and it's just too damn hot in here with it on. So are the gloves and the scarf." Didn't get lucky then either.

Well, this quote came from a while back. So will most of these, but this one is running on being a decade old. One of those things that predates the quote but I still remember from time to time. Anyway, my dad and uncle were having a rather silly conversation in the car one day. I have no idea how it got brought up, but the topic of 2 dollar bills was much in the forefront. My uncle was trying to defend a claim that 2 dollar bills were worth more than 2 dollars. It seems silly I know, but this is the hand I got dealt. Anyway, my dad was on the other side of the argument, claiming that 2 dollar bills were still only worth face value. The following excerpt is from the end of that conversation...


Quote Of the Day 7/17/00

My dad: "No they're not! Why would they be worth more than $2?"
Uncle Ed: "Well, there are some 2 dollar bills worth like 4 dollars."
My dad: "What kind? The kind that are stuck together?"


That's what's called winning an argument by humor.


Stuck in a neverending 3-pt-turn,

Mr. Neutral.


Still Standing Right Here...

Thursday, June 18, 1998

Professional Car School Advice

You know, I've finally figured out the secret to my car. It makes a lot of unnatural noises when you try to do certain things in it. Like accelerate. Well, the key to a smooth ride in my car, is to block out those sounds. I've found that turning the music up really loud helps a lot. And I've noticed that if you don't look at the driver's side mirror ever, you can hardly notice that it's falling off. I'm trying to apply this skill to other areas in my life as well. I once read an article that said that taking an aspirin daily with a shot of bourbon reduces a person's awareness of heart attacks. I wonder if this principle also works with dirty laundry. And student loans.

Well, thankfully, one of my best friends happens to be a Car major at GMI Institute (which in its written out form, is General Motor's Institute Institute). So I tell him all the problems I'm having with the car and he says some words I don't understand and I nod my head and go "ooooh, ok," and then we play tennis. Well, he was in the car and asked me if that light was always on. Apparently, there's this light on the car that says "Check Engine" that is just always on (I hope). I told him that it was always on, because I think it might be true, but mostly just because I didn't want him to panic. I asked him if he knew what that meant or how to fix it...


Quote Of the Day 6/18/98

Joe: Oh, yeah. You want to know what would fix that?
Me: Yeah, what?
Joe: A piece of electric tape (as in to cover the little light).


He goes away to Car School to tell me that. His mother must be proud.


Testing the boundaries of child abuse,
Mr. Whistlehead.


Still Standing Right Here...