I left Charlotte yesterday morning around 4:15am. I turn on Wilkinson Boulevard and then onto I485. As I'm accelerating onto the interstate, a high-pitch squealing starts being emitted from under the hood. About ten seconds later it stops with a small snap. And, as it stops, my battery light in the dash comes on.
And I knew exactly what had happened.
The belt that connected the flywheel, alternator, and water pump had just snapped. That means two very critical pieces of equipment on my vehicle were now in the "non-functioning" category.
Just as the temperature gauge nosed into the red zone, I pulled off I77 onto the exit, shut the car's engine off, and coasted into the nearest gas station, a Circle K (cue Bill and Ted). Now, it was 4:30 in the morning. Circle K was the only thing open. I went into the store to get a snack, and I asked the attendant about any auto part stores in the surrounding areas. After he mentioned one about a block down the road, I thanked him and told him not to worry about my car being around the store all night, how it was broken, and that I needed to fix it as soon as Auto Zone opened. He nodded, and I went back to the Sprint and took a three hour nap.
I woke up at 7:30 and bought the part just as the store was opening. After talking with the clerk for a few moments, he directed me to a quality garage about a mile away that could replace the belt for me.
Now being the moron I am, rest assured the story won't stop here.
I get to the garage and pull into the parking lot. I get everything out of the car that I think I'll need to get the belt changed. Apparently, car keys were not on that list. I shut the car door (which I always instinctively lock) as the mechanic walks up. He greets me and asks me to open the hood so he can take a look before he moves the car into the garage. It still hadn't hit me at this point. That is, until I reached my hand into my pocket. No keys. The other? No. That's when reality chose to arrive. The mechanic must've seen the look on my face, because he just shook his head and walked into the garage, reappearing a couple minutes later with a skeleton key. A few more minutes of monkeying with the lock, and I've got my keys again.
The replacement of the belt took no time after that.
I leave and get on my way around 9am, getting back into town around 10am, an hour before class starts, fully exhausted.
And I knew exactly what had happened.
The belt that connected the flywheel, alternator, and water pump had just snapped. That means two very critical pieces of equipment on my vehicle were now in the "non-functioning" category.Just as the temperature gauge nosed into the red zone, I pulled off I77 onto the exit, shut the car's engine off, and coasted into the nearest gas station, a Circle K (cue Bill and Ted). Now, it was 4:30 in the morning. Circle K was the only thing open. I went into the store to get a snack, and I asked the attendant about any auto part stores in the surrounding areas. After he mentioned one about a block down the road, I thanked him and told him not to worry about my car being around the store all night, how it was broken, and that I needed to fix it as soon as Auto Zone opened. He nodded, and I went back to the Sprint and took a three hour nap.
I woke up at 7:30 and bought the part just as the store was opening. After talking with the clerk for a few moments, he directed me to a quality garage about a mile away that could replace the belt for me.
Now being the moron I am, rest assured the story won't stop here.
I get to the garage and pull into the parking lot. I get everything out of the car that I think I'll need to get the belt changed. Apparently, car keys were not on that list. I shut the car door (which I always instinctively lock) as the mechanic walks up. He greets me and asks me to open the hood so he can take a look before he moves the car into the garage. It still hadn't hit me at this point. That is, until I reached my hand into my pocket. No keys. The other? No. That's when reality chose to arrive. The mechanic must've seen the look on my face, because he just shook his head and walked into the garage, reappearing a couple minutes later with a skeleton key. A few more minutes of monkeying with the lock, and I've got my keys again.The replacement of the belt took no time after that.
I leave and get on my way around 9am, getting back into town around 10am, an hour before class starts, fully exhausted.
2 comments:
The fun adventures of Danny and the Sprint never have a dull episode and if they seem to be declining in adventure Danny to the rescue with the ole key locked in the car trick Yes he does take after his good ole MOMMY
The "Sprint" is the name for my little red car. Nothing could be further from the truth, though; there's nothing about the car, other than the name, that suggests it can go fast
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