Published in The Fauquier Times-Democrat, Weekend Edition on Feb. 10, 2012
I hesitated. Although his car is smaller, its visibility is poor. I had “tapped” a car while attempting to parallel park the Suburban earlier that day. What damage could I cause in a car with poor visibility?
I was picking up my friend Connie Chintall along the way to introduce her at her first meeting. We got there just a couple of minutes late. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could do everything, after all!
Then, the weirdest thing happened. I could not turn off the car. Had I forgotten to put it into park? Had I locked the steering wheel by turning in too sharply? I tried everything to turn off the car. The car kept running and the key refused to budge.
"No,” I said, beleaguered, “what I need is a jump-stop. Is there any way you can send someone to get my car to stop running?” That fell under car maintenance, but he could definitely send a tow truck. I laughed ruefully. I didn’t need the car towed. I could drive it anywhere; I just couldn’t turn the car off.
I made the short drive to Country Chevrolet. It was just after six when all the service people had left. I’m not complaining. They have amazing hours and their service is great. I laughed when Steve Chipman, a service advisor, had once joked that he works lots of half days - as in half of the 24 hours in a day.
The car had been running for nearly two hours. Would I have to wait until it ran out of gas? Then I could technically get it towed somewhere. But the key would still be a problem.
I stalked the dealership and latched on to the first uniformed person, Jason Brooks, an evening service attendant. I pleaded for help, and he took pity. He may have ventured into forbidden territory, but I was selfish – and thankful. He disconnected the battery. Funny. I never realized that the battery of this car was in the trunk. At least I know where things are in my Suburban. This does not necessarily apply to its rear bumper when parallel parking, though.
Even I know that the battery is what you need to crank the car. Once it’s running, the alternator, connected to the spinning engine, works to recharge the battery. Jason then removed the ignition fuse. Finally, the car stopped. Relief. Most likely, it was going to need a new lock cylinder. It was now well past the ending time of the meeting, had I actually attended it.
So for the next meeting, should I go and show that I am not a slave to superstition? Or should I listen to my husband, and show that I am capable of learning?
Generally, I don’t consider myself to be a pushy person. On occasion, I do insist on getting my way, but such occasions tend to be rapidly followed by regret.
For example, I wanted to attend the Piedmont Bloggers Meetup Group. It’s headed by Jamie Gorman, Founder of SIGMA College of Small Business. It’s a great group of people who meet monthly, and a nice way to connect with locals whose writing is swimming in the great Internet-ic Ocean. Some members are published authors (not me) and others have been blogging for nearly a decade (again, not me). There are several novices too. It’s fun, educational, and of course, there are great snacks.
My husband advised against attending that day in October. I ran right over his advice. He offered me his car since mine had been acting up.
Jeez. Was anything going to go right today? I asked Connie to go in while I called my Auto Maintenance Hotline. My husband guided me through some steps, but to no avail.
I popped into the meeting, car running in its parking spot, and explained why I wouldn’t be attending. A few brave suggestions were ventured, but I decided to drive home to the rightful owner. My husband exhausted his toolkit of tricks. Alas, the car kept running. We couldn’t get the darned key out.
I called our car insurance company’s roadside assistance. “Ma’am, do you want us to send someone to give you a jumpstart?” the friendly associate asked.
Was I willing to have the repair done at Country Chevrolet? Why not? They’re always good to us. I wouldn’t need to drop off the key, since it was still firmly rooted in the car.
The next day, $ 417.95 later, after the ignition lock cylinder and keys were replaced and the car was reprogrammed, I got the car back. Ouch. Was it something I had done to the car? I was trying to clear my conscience. No – it just happened. Was it something I hadn’t done? Like listen to my husband?
I congratulated my husband on loaning me the car so he hadn’t had to deal with this fate the next day after his long commute to work. One should always think positively.
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