Saturday night when we left the Halloween party downtown, Bonnie, Our Knight In Shining (Silver-Cloth-That-Sort-Of-Looked-Like) Armor and I walked to my car to leave. I got behind the wheel and the car wouldn’t start. I tried again. Nothing. It didn’t even make that click-click-click sound a car makes when the battery is dead.
Bonnie and Jack start going down the list: “Did you leave your lights on?”
“No, they turn on and off automatically.”
“Did you leave the inside light on?”
“No, even if I did, it shouldn’t have drained the battery in six hours. This is a Toyota. Toyotas don’t do stuff like this.”
Bonnie and I got out of the car and opened the hood because for some reason, we thought maybe someone had stolen my battery. It made sense at the time.
Bonnie said, “I know it won’t make any difference, but let me see if I can start it.”
Bonnie got behind the wheel, turned the key and the car started right up.
I said, “Fuck. Turn it off.”
I got out of the car, walked around to the driver’s side, tried to start the car. Nothing.
Bonnie and Jack started with the questions again. Did you do this? Did you do that? Put your foot on the brake. Put your foot on the gas. Put your foot on the clutch and the brake. Push the key in while you turn it. Don’t push the key in while you turn it. Nothing.
“I know how to start this car, dammit. I have started this car at least four times a day for the last two years. I know how to start my own freakin’ car.” However, I was beginning to have my doubts about that. I tried five or six more times and got nothing. I got out of the car and put Bonnie behind the wheel. VAROOM. It started right up.
“Fuck,” I said again.
Evidently, The Universe wanted Bonnie to drive. We dropped off Jack and when Bonnie and I got to my house, I said, “Let me try again.” Nothing.
I tried three times and one time it sounded like it would almost start then…nothing. Bonnie got in again and it started right up. At this point, our fear of carbon monoxide poisoning from starting and re-starting the car in my closed garage overrode our desire to try to figure out what the hell was going on.
Bonnie went home. I went to bed. I got up the next morning, went down to the garage and tried to start my car. It started right up. I turned it off and back on three times with no problems and I haven’t had any trouble starting it since.
What the hell?
15 comments:
I'm guessing you were not destined to be the designated driver that night :) Happy Halloween
I would say you accidentally got one of those experimental "breathalyzer" models that won't start if you're... impaired. But A.) This would surely have come up before, and B.) If it wouldn't start for you after a party, it probably wouldn't have started for Bonnie after a party, either.
So yeah, it was probably the universe.
Cindy - We had an uneventful ride home but you can't help but wonder what might have happened if we had left five minutes or even five seconds earlier.
Larry - That's funny because I actually said something about my court ordered breathalyzer malfunctioning. Not, that that's funny but it's funny that we both thought about it.
For those who might be wondering, we sat outside of the clubs, where you can't drink, for a long time before we got in the car to leave so alcohol wasn't a factor in my dilemma.
Maybe it was just some dream sequence that was playing out in your sleep and you only thought it was real?
D.B. - Maybe it's all a dream. Red pill or blue pill?
Maybe your car was just looking out for you....or it was possessed on Halloween.
Maybe you had too much gas.
Neal - I like to think it was looking out for me...for all of us.
Dave - That goes without saying. :)
Dressed up in your cute little Hallowen costume, your car simply didn't recognise you, the really amazing thing is that it recognised Bonnie!
WHoooo HOoooo and other creepy sounds Laurie, The Halloween Witch strikes again.
Neil - Maybe my car is a "he" and wanted a little variety for Halloween. With my sister?! The bastard!!
Peter - ((shiver))
I am so not going there!!! But anatomically speaking all cars are a "she" ;-)
Neil - I think I won't go there with you, too, also, together.
If you start at the intersection of Calder and Willow, by where Golden Imports used to be, and draw a straight line to the intersection of Fannin and Park, by the workout place; then a straight line down Fannin to Main; and then from the Fannin/Main intersection another straight line back to the starting point at Calder/Willow, what you have roughly is a triangle.
I am guessing you were located within or near this triangle Saturday night? Over the years, there have been many unexplained instances of dead batteries and cars just not starting in this area. I have been trying to get the National Geographic Channel interested in this phenomenon, but so far, no luck.
Inca - Are you teasing me?! I believe just about anything weird anyone tells me, you know. I've had several weird experiences on Crockett Street (non-alcohol related) so, this wouldn't surprise me one bit.
If it's real and you aren't a tease, you need to blog about it.
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