Automotive Independence

Last Friday I was headed south to a doctor's appointment in a town that I used to live in. It's a hundred miles away, but I like the doctor. It was a nice day for a drive, and I was pretty thrilled at taking an afternoon off.

A little less than halfway there, I noticed that a little light on my dashboard shaped like a battery had come on. I had no idea what it meant! So I did what any girl in my position would - I started calling guys.

My father is MIA somewhere in Colorado, Keith's phone sends me straight to voicemail, Daniel isn't picking up, and Patrick...well, things aren't bad enough to deal with Patrick at the moment. I was about to start indiscriminately going down the list of guys I know when, finally, I get a hold of Keith who promptly diagnoses the problem: my alternator no longer loves me.

I ask the pertinent questions: "Will I make it to where you will change it for me" and "Will you pick me up if I don't?" Keith was sweet enough to go and buy the parts and get them put in for me. It cost me a case of beer and a few hours hanging out to help drink it - not a bad trade. In fact, I highly recommend this sort of roadside assistance.

My father always worries that I can't take care of myself where automobiles are concerned. Whenever he gets back, he'll be impressed that I handled this on my own. Then again, he knows Keith. He may know that I cheated.