Yesterday we were driving to work. We even left early because lately we've been arriving either on the dot or a few minutes late. We were about half-way between our house and our place of employment when suddenly there was a bizarre noise which then gave way to extremely disconcerting vibrations. We turned on the emergency flashers, pulled over to the side of the freeway, and discovered that one of Faith's tires had blown its shit out.
We've dealt with flat tires before. We busted out the jack and the spare like pros. Got the car propped up, the lug nuts off... and the tire would. not. budge.
Faith called her step dad, and he suggested we kick it. While that did a lot of good for our emotional states, it had absolutely no effect on getting the tire to come off. So I called my dad, and he suggest we put the lug nuts on about a quarter inch and then drive slowly for about 20 feet.
It didn't work. We called the tow truck, assuming it was our last and most unpleasant option. Meanwhile, three cops drive by and do not help. It's rush hour, so of course no civilians stopped...
After a whopping hour and a half waiting for the tow truck, we decide to give the driving trick a try again and we hear a pop this time. We jump out, crank up the jack, and the tire moves! While we're taking it off, this adorable old MnDOT man pulls up behind us, and helps us put the tire back on. We're rejoicing that we don't have to pay a tow truck when we realize that our flashers have been on for two hours and we don't have enough battery power to start our car.
Luckily, the MnDOT man had super spiffy jumper cables and gave us a jump. We limped home, grabbed the Plymouth Acclaim, and took off for work. We arrived two and a half hours late.
So! today we took my car and arrived without incident. When we were leaving at quarter to five I went to turn on my car, and it wouldn't start. It wouldn't even turn. My eyes turned to my lights, and I saw that I had left them on all. day.
My battery was d-e-d, dead. But I am the daughter of an auto mechanic, and I carry jumper cables in my car. We broke 'em out and tried to to jump my car, but it wasn't havin' it. It took over a half an hour, two separate good Samaritans, one cell phone death mid-call, multiple calls to my father who apparently cannot understand English in moments of distress, a few solid whacks with a wrench, and finally the car rumbled to life.
I decided I wanted to get a new battery because I couldn't trust that it would start tomorrow morning after how long it took for it to jump. In the end, it was a good choice because after the hour we spent trying to find a suitably priced battery/NAPA Auto Parts store, we got help yanking out the battery and I found out that it would never provide power again.
So I dropped about 100 bucks on a new battery and some sea foam for other car maintenance, and Faith and I installed the battery ourselves. It was terrifying, but the NAPA man said he'd give us an A+ on a dangerous ball of acid and charge well installed.
I just have to say that nothing better happen on our commute tomorrow or I might scream.