This morning, I went to get in my trusty little Jetta in order to get to work, only to find that the alarm didn't work. Odd. Oh well. I unlocked the door and got in. Key into the ignition, nothing. Completely dead. As in doornail. Luckily, my husband and I are fortunate enough to have two cars at our disposal, so I cranked up the Solara, and took off. Swung back around the block to run back in for my knitting.
The day goes by, quickly, although I start to fail around 4 pm. Five o'clock comes, and I clock out. I go out to the car, the alarm works, and I get in. Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick. The telltale sound of a dead battery. Another dead battery. I call my husband to tell him what's up, then call my auto club begging help. I am told that within the hour someone will rescue me. The hour goes by. Nothing. I call back. Apparently, there is traffic; someone will be there within twenty minutes. Twenty minutes goes by. Then another forty. I am knitting and texting and talking to people on the phone, getting opinions. I call back the auto club. Where is my white knight? Allegedly the computers were down at the shop, so they couldn't get a call out to the driver, but they were finally able to contact him, and he should be there withing ten minutes. Another call beeps in; I don't recognize the number. I assume it's my rescuer, and I hang up with the auto club, ready to give the driver a small piece of my mind. He sounds very friendly on the other end of the line, more so when I mention that I've had a very hard weekend, first I turned forty, then my Jetta dies, now this. He said, "I know you aren't complaining about turning forty. I just turned forty-two, and I look twenty-five." I commiserate that it really is better than the alternative, and that I don't look my age either. We chat a bit, and then I see his van. We hang up.
He gets out of the van, and my first words to him are, "Dude, you are so lying to me if you maintain that you're 42." He really does look 25. He says that he has a 21-year old son, and he's been married for 22 years. Man alive. I tell him that he is remarkably well preserved. He says, "I don't let things stress me, you gotta just smile and laugh it off. Stress will kill you." Words to live by. He gets my car running, assures me that I will be able to go to the grocery store and then home without a problem, but that I should get the car looked at. He asks how far away my other car is, and I tell him, eighteen minutes -- in the opposite direction. He said that if it was the other way then he'd be happy to come jump it for me. I tell him that if he ever needs any jewelry, to come see me, and I give him my card. He gives me his card, and if I need car help, to please call. Daniel, you made a hard thing not so hard after all.