Thursday, January 25, 2007

I put a spell on you. WATCH OUT!

Stay away from me. I’m hexed.

I don’t know when it happened, how it happened, or who or what did the hexing. All I know is damn near everything I’ve touched in the past 24 hours has been fucked up.

It started with my phone.

I got a new cell phone last month. I’m very happy with the phone. Along with all the totally frivolous bells and whistles it has, it actually allows you to call people and you can talk to people when they call you. Amazing. They still make phones that you can make phone calls with.

Well, last night, in the middle of a phone call, it died. Just turned itself off. Battery was fine. I don’t get it either.

It did it again this morning. It was laying on my desk at work. No one had touched it, used it or even looked at it funny. It turned itself off again.

I took off the back cover, removed the battery, wiped everything down (just in case dust had gotten on the contacts) and slapped it back together. So far, so good. It’s still on.

But then the hex went to jewelry.

Do any of you people have temperamental ear lobes? Surely I can’t be the only one. My right one is amicable. I can wear anything in that one (old cheap earrings, rusty nails, safety pins, antique fishing lure) and never have any trouble. The left one, however, is quite surly. I’ve resorted to coating several pairs of earrings with clear fingernail polish to stop them from freaking out the left ear, but to no avail.

Usually I can get a few hours of wear in. Today the left ear lobe made it 5 hours before the insane itching started. Earrings had to go. This one particular pair is unusually bad, too. They’ll be seeing the inside of a trash can soon.

An hour of so later I feel something slide down my breast bone, followed by a tinkling sound. Damn necklace broken. Beads everywhere. Fuck. This is the second time this damn necklace has broke. I’m tired of fixing it. Plus, it’s cheaply made anyway. Necklace, meet earrings. Earrings, necklace. Have fun in the can, alright?

Once the jewelry stopped fleeing my body, the car started revolting next.

My beloved Focus was in need of an oil change. The guys at my chosen ‘oil change temple’ are very nice and thorough, although the sales pitches for other, often unnecessary, services gets a little old after a while. But this one time I decided to splurge a little on the Focus and added on a radiator flush. As far as I know it’s never been done to this car, and it IS seven years old so I’m sure it needed it. In fact, the oil change temple priests remind me of that every time I come in.

This one time, ONE TIME, I decide to treat my car to a little something extra, it goes hog wild with the credit card.

Upon doing all the other vehicular inspections, they notice my battery is dying a slow death. Guess that would explain why my automatic power locks haven’t been working, the fuel/mileage gauge has wonked out and that it’s been starting up kinda rough. Ok, fine, we need a new battery, no problem (just a little more money). Too bad the oil change temple priests don’t have mine in stock.

Total from oil change temple: $120 for oil change and cooling system flush.

From there it was on to the ‘car part spot’ to purchase a battery. Yay! They have mine in stock. Double yay! There’s a nice young man who will install it for me!

(Please note: I am now old enough to say ‘young man,’ especially considering this kid was way younger than me anyway.)

Well, there was much foam spray, and much pounding and much chiseling. One clamp refused to left go of the battery. And this poor kid is outside, in the cold (and it was cold today, folks - 35 degrees), with no coat, working on this non-budging battery cable clamp.

(There I go again, sounding like an old broad, all concerned about this kid in the cold with no coat.)

He eventually declared defeat and suggested I try this one tire place down the road that has a staff of mechanics (garage priests) who could help me out.

‘Course now the Focus won’t start. Even after he hooked up the old, dying, now apparently dead, battery.

He drags out the Happy Car Jumper, gives me just enough juice to get me a couple of miles down the road and off I go... with one foot on the brake and the other on the gas. If I let up on the gas, the car is gonna stall.

Total from car part spot: $85 for battery and contacts.

I make it to the tire place, rush into the office (while my car is running outside - don’t want it to die) and explain the desperation of my situation. The guy says they’ll have to charge me a service fee since I didn’t buy the battery from them, but that’s ok. At this point I really don’t care. I’ve been trying to get home for 2 hours. I don’t want to have to call someone (especially on my questionable phone) to come and haul my sorry ass home.

While this ‘business transaction’ is going down, so is my car. By the time the grease monkey gets to it, it’s dead. Again.

But a half hour later the new battery is in. And it only cost me...

Total from tire place: $20.

Grand total: $225. And all I wanted was a lousy oil change.

You better enjoy all these treats, Focus. You’re not getting more until next Christmas. The phone in next in line for presents.

2 comments:

Captain Purple said...

I've had a couple of days similar to that although not quite as expensive. I'm blaming it on the coming full moon.

Sometimes, though, I can't shake the feeling that I'm the fates' favorite chew toy.

By the way, I like your new digs here :)

zippywinds said...

dam durany that sucks, mirrors my daily life as a nurse. oh love the site. wishing you the best. :)