it's time to toot my own horn. and darren's. of course the reason any horn blowing was going on today was as a result of my extreme and continued negligence.
this was the sticker i noticed on my ford as i was leaving wednesday night to attend my self-declared Layoff #4 Celebration at cosmo's. i was obviously pretty unhappy about it and the timing was extraordinarily lousy. so plans were made to rectify the situation as quickly as possible.
the ford started chugging the last time i really drove her... probably a good year and a half ago. i tried changing spark plugs (on two occasions), but that wasn't enough. then i worked out my gameplan and worked up my courage to take her to a garage. and then she wouldn't even turn over any more.
i had purchased a new battery at sears on friday and, after i told them to uninstall it from the camry and put it in the trunk instead, i was ready for action!
darren came over today so we could form the most dubious car repair team ever: gay boy + straight girl. we actually did the following (okay... so it was mostly darren):
1. dusted the car with my brand-new non-deluxe California Duster.
2. installed the current registration sticker (just because the sticker on the windshield is expired doesn't mean the car isn't actually registered).
3. put air in all of the tires. and none of them blew up in our faces.
4. replaced the battery. and it didn't blow up in darren's face.
5. siphoned the water out of the tail light casing which had somehow been broken. and i didn't get electrocuted.
6. finally removed the very last, incredibly stubborn spark plug and replaced it after dumpster diving to retrieve the new one i had inadvertently tossed with the "debris" scraped from under the battery tray.
then we tried to start it. and it didn't blow up. it actually turned over, but still wouldn't start. oh yeah... low on gas. we went and collected a paltry 2 gallons and loaded her up. the gas tank was so cavernously empty, it sounded like it was emptying into a place hundreds of yards away.
still wouldn't start.
time to call in the big gun... darren's handy man of a brother. i removed the air filter and was delighted to see gas dripping out of a cranny. then i was frightened as i watched darren cling to his cellphone and position the nearly empty gas can over what we chose to believe was the carburetor. he then poured.
voila! it started. and smoked. and coughed. and died.
we tried again.
voila! it started. and smoked. and coughed. and smoked. and coughed some more. and then we coughed. and held our heads trying to stabilize them against the gas and exhaust fumes we had been inhaling. and then she went into idle. success!
then we shut her off and had a celebratory dinner at kalachandji's.
at least you can tell the car has been moved. so what if it was moved after darren pushed it.