My life is a comedy of errors

Part I:
I decided to take the day and just relax. I went to the public library and read books and visited with some of my favorite staff people. It was nice to just be in a different atmosphere.

Then I decided to go to Starbucks and sit and read. Hey, don't judge me- I have a good book and was just tired of being home. So I drove to the nearest Starbucks, which is the next town over, about 25 minutes away. I got my favorite Venti Peppermint Mocha and sat there and read for a few hours. Then I decided to drive home. I went to the car and it wouldn't start. The head lights came on and the dashboard lights and the radio but the car wouldn't start. It didn't click or grind or anything. Just no noise at all, just lights. Weird.

I looked under the hood and jiggled wires and it still wouldn't start. I went inside to see if anyone had jumper cables and no one did.

I was standing in the parking lot, contemplating a 1 block walk to Auto Zone when a redneck guy pulled up in a big 'ol pick up. I asked him for help and he had the jumper cables. Of course he did since he wore camo pants, 3 flannel shirts, an orange day-glo hunting had, three days of beard growth on his grizzly face, and no teeth. But hell, he had jumper cables! And that didn't work.

Part II:
After the bourbon breath guy couldn't get my car started I decided to walk to the Auto Zone. I crossed the parking lot and saw an open garage. I went there and told the mechanic what was going on. He was closing the shop so he drove over with some tools and he tinkered around and it wouldn't start.

He said it was either the badly corroded wires or the starter. If it's badly corroded, then he'll fix it tomorrow for free. If it's the starter, I'm screwed for the tune of $175 UP FRONT.

And, here's a weird thing. I got the guy's business card and then just handed hi m the keys to my car. A perfect stranger. I just handed them over.

Now, let us pray for corrosion. Or that the car gets stolen (isn't that what insurance is for?).

Part III:
Now I'm stranded about 25 minutes away so what else can I do other than I call father. Who agrees to be my hero and come get me. As I hang up and get ready to go in Starbucks to sit and wait, friends of mine come out! They live in my town! They will give me a ride! Hallelujah! (<---- appropriate verbiage since the friend is a minister!)

I call dad back to tell him I don't need the ride, run inside to tell Starbucks about my car so it doesn't get towed, take a quick trip to the ladies room and then hitch it home.

Part IV:
Because if I didn't have bad luck, I would have no luck so I'm pretty sure my car will not be stolen overnight and it won't be just corrosion, I have to figure out how to come up with money. I decided the option that makes most sense is to return the Nook I bought myself (yes, I bought a Nook and have yet to blog about it! But I thought I was od-ing on the book/ reading posts so I was giving it some time. Anyway, I digress...)

I decide I'll return the Nook and Daddy-O gave me a leather cover and some other accessories. If I return all of that, I'll almost have the cost of the car. I have my Nook receipt and the box, and even the original bag.

What I don't have is the box the leather cover came in. I thought I threw it in a trash bag with the Christmas wrapping paper. Which was already taken to the trash, to the curb. Uh-Oh! No, but wait!!! Good news- tomorrow is trash day! Uh wait! Bad news- Daddy-O cleaned the garage trash out and just chucked it into the car, not in a bag.

So with a flashlight and extra garbage bags, father and I go out into the dark to dig through the trash at the curb. We do. It is gross. I wanted to puke. The box is not there.

And something wet and sticky and indescribable got on my hand. I probably have dysentery and gangrene and pneumonia and tyrotoxism! And I have no box for the leather case.

I'll call the garage tomorrow and see what the damage is.

Gee, things are always eventful here.

This is what I get for taking a day off.

Maggie