I got a little money from the government burglars a week ago, and I didn’t even know it. With my newfound funds Shauvon and I headed to the local Marsh. Oh if only it were that easy. Two Sundays ago, I went driving somewhere, and I left my headlights on. This killed my battery, and I found that out last night when we tried to drive to the Local Mountain to do a Monkey show. Tim gave me a jump later that night, and all was fine. Or so I thought. The car wouldn’t start to get us to Marsh. First we tried to push-start it, that didn’t work, so I called Mary, who lives across the way. She didn’t answer, so I called Maegan, who was there. She provided the beefy v6 of a Toyota Solara and its normal battery terminals, uncoated by anything nonconducting. We got it started and went on our way.
We went to the grocery store, bought some stuff, whatever. I went to the booze section, and in anticipation of several causes celebre ( Tom’s 21st, Joe’s acceptance into pharmacy, Tim’s last free weekend in forever), stocked up on some distilled spirits. (including a bottle of Bombay Sapphire on sale for $20!) So we’re checking out and this older couple is looking very disapprovingly at my purchase of three bottles of liquor. What are old people doing at the grocery store at 9:30 PM anyway? Shouldn’t you have gone to bed 3 hours ago?
We get to the parking lot, and I am confident that our jaunt across town has charged up the battery enough to start us up again. It didn’t. So we got out, and attempted a push start. We weren’t about to ask those judgmental septuagenarians for a jump. Shauvon struggled at first in the rainslicked parkinglot, but he got Big Mama rolling, I dropped the clutch in, and BRWOOWOWOOOOOOOOOM it started! I did a victory half-circle and picked up Shauvon. All of this was in visual range of the senior citizens we so offended with my lush purchases.
