March 31, 2005 - Thursday | 9:05 PM, CST As promised, the story about my truck... The other day, I go out and notice my truck has a flat tire. It had a slow leak for awhile, and I figured it had just gotten faster. As I don't have a regular air compressor out here, I got my twelve volt model out and tried starting the truck. No such luck there - it was as dead as could be. Not even the dome light turned on. So now I need a new alternator. I figured this was coming, because the last time I was out helling my voltage was on the fritz. But ok, add an alternator to the list of shit gone wrong. I go to Auto-Zone, and buy a new, higher-powered alternator than before. But first things first, I'd better get that tire off. The only problem with that, is the constant rain we'd had for the previous week. When I attempted to raise the truck, it merely pushed the jack deep into the mud. Great. It took me nearly a half an hour to find appropriate sized boards, then get the truck far enough out of the mud to work on the tire. Now for the next surprise... my lug wrench is gone! Off to Wal-Mart. I spent about ten minutes browsing through the automotive section looking for the appropriate size when I finally got frustrated and asked the lady behind the counter for help.
Me: Do you have any one inch tire irons? This is what kind of annoys me about a lot of stores. If I've already spent ten minutes trying to find something, I don't want to just be pointed in the right direction or given instructions on how to get there. Get off your lazy ass and show me. But no matter, they didn't have the correct size anyway. Next stop: Auto-Zone. I asked if they had any one inch lug wrenches. "Umm... yeah..." He leads me to the aisle, looks around, and hands me a onch inch deep well socket. "No, I need a l-u-g wrench." "Oh." Next stop: NAPA, where a burned out looking punk decides to help me.
Me: I'm looking for a one inch lug wrench. In the parking lot, I dial information and get the number for the Kentland NAPA. Yes, they have one. A man is waiting with it behind the counter when I arrive. Wonderful. I go home and pull the tire off, and discover not one, but two nails embedded into the tread. Fucking great, and of course no one I call is open. As a last ditch effort, I try Wal-Mart. They can fix it, and it'll only cost $6.50. Wonderful, things are looking up. The alternator is a breeze by comparison, although I decide not to totally finish the project, instead going out and purchasing all new belts to replace the ones that Art ruined when he popped my truck into neutral while I was passing a car on the highway. And that was an adventure as well. Because you see, my water pump / power steering share two belts. Well... the computers at Auto-Zone don't tell them that the belts have to match in length. I found this out the hard way when I got home and I had a tight belt and one that was flopping around and ready to fly off the pulley. And guess what... Thats correct! Neither Auto-Zone nor Watseka NAPA have a belt to match either of the ones I already have, or double of any other size belt that will fit. The next morning, I went back to Kentland NAPA and they fixed the problem. And now I have a beautiful truck with four fully inflated tires, an alternator that can handle the four man lights, and brand new non-squealing belts to keep the engine accessories running smoothly. But don't think that this is the happy ending my friends. No sir! You see, things around my house have been too quiet on the war front. Yes, I'm talking about the animal jihad waged against me. I figured that perhaps the new cat was keeping them away from the house. But no, the mice had decided to move into the heating vents of my truck. And even better, they decided to piss down in there. So now whenever I turn on the heat, I get to smell baked mouse urine. Time for some Febreeze. |
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