I didn’t have to go to my last class today. I did, however, have to take my brother home, and he did have a last class. So I went out to my car, put on some music, and decided to sit there for a minute and see if any of my friends came out to the parking lot.
Well, I fell asleep, and those few minutes turned into over an hour. And the predictable thing happened: my car died. The monster of invulnerability that is my car… died. My brother came strolling out into the parking lot, looking forward to a relaxing car ride home with the windows rolled down and the music blaring. What he got was a solid hour and a half of struggling to fix my car, whose name is Cosmo.
When I turned the key and Cosmo made strangled put-put-put noises, I knew we were in trouble. Two minutes later, I was flagging down people in the parking lot. Claire, Allison and I stood around with our hands dangling at our sides after I’d popped the hood. We are not particularly car-savvy. Finally Claire waved her boyfriend over and we were able to get down to business. The battery was dead. This much we knew. Problem: we didn’t have jumper cables. We did not even know where the battery in my car was. While I thumbed through the manuel, Claire’s boyfriend ran and got jumper cables from some generous person I didn’t know. Allison went sprinting after our friend Tim, who was already speeding away in his jeep, with her hands flailing over her head. My brother was trying to hide. A van filled with football players drove by and made faces at him. He smacked his forehead and muttered, “Oh, how perfect.”
After a few unsuccessful attempts to jump start Cosmo, I was forced to hitch a ride home with Allison and abandon Cosmo to my school parking lot. My mother and our neighbor were able to jump start it later. Apparently the battery is in the trunk. Who knew? I’m not sure what we jump started, but it sure as hell wasn’t the battery.