Ya gotta start somewhere.

Apparently Selma Lee didn't think my Peep Masterpiece was nearly as cute as I did... I think there was a little jealousy on her part about the fact that I didn't spend yesterday working on her.

She apparently thought she should express her displeasure with me at 10:15 this evening, on a dark side street of DownTown, after I got off work at The Wine Cafe.

She decided to give me quite a start- by not doing so.

Now- I've been anticipating her not starting... I'm carrying around extra inline fuel filters and the tools needed to change them, so that anytime- anywhere, if the current one gets clogged and she won't start, I'll be able to fix the problem.

This was not that.

I got into the car. Turned the key, and the dashlights (the little ones at the bottom- Brake, Seatbelt, Glow Plugs... the only ones that light up) came on- and them flickered to a slightly dimmer state. I waited for the Glow Plug light to go off- turned the key- Nothing happened.

Nothing.

Not a sound. Not a breath of a chug-chug. Nothing.

I try again- and again. And again. Each time returning to the Glow Plug lighting position, waiting for it to go off, turning it to Ignition.

Now- I've told Dave to go to bed with his phone next to his ear- so that if I ever needed him (in a situation just like this)- I'd have a chance he'd hear his phone... the boy goes to bed early. I call- it rings once, and goes straight to VoiceMail... I think- He can't possibly have his phone off... I try again, and again- it rings three times, I leave a message... I call another dozen times, hoping the continual- Singular Ring- might catch his subconscious and wake him up.

No luck.

I consider the 9 mile walk from DownTown through the Hinterlands to the Blight of Sprawling Suburb that I live in... I consider whether or not any of the kitchen staff might live in the Blight of Sprawling Suburb... I look up and down the deserted street and decide to try to start Ms. Suiby one more time.

I turn the key to Glow Plugs... the dashlights are bright this time. The light goes off- I turn the key-

Chug-chug, chug-chug-chug- I slam the gas petal to the floor- she catches. I throw her in reverse and fumble with my phone to call Dave again and leave a less threatening message letting him know I'm on my way home.


Tomorrow I'll be taking a nice long look at her battery connections, and a few other things. I hoping the problem is there, and not in the key/ignition unit. It would make sense that it's the battery connections... I just can't imagine it could be that easy.

Anyway- things to do.

Got home and checked- Dave's phone was right by the bedside- not turned off- not out of battery- not anything. No idea why it did what it did- but at least I don't need to physically harm him for having done something wrong in my time of need.



Prior to this my night had been Perfect. Perfect. Everything clicked- I was in an excellent work mood- here's a snippet-

(we occasionally- as a special- offer a monsterously large burger, which we stack quite tall, and stick one of those foot-long bamboo skewers you can get at the grocery store, through. I served a couple their food and came back a moment later to refill their ice teas)
Man (brandishing the skewer at his defenseless companion)- I was saying, this is one awfully large tooth-pick.
Me- You could use it as such, but you might get some odd looks. You could always take it home, where there might be fewer to do the looking.
Man- No really, you could go hunting with this thing.
Me- We actually killed the cow we used to make your burger with it, then carried it through to the presentation. It's creative re-use.
Chuckles.
Man- You use your sense of humor. That's nice.

I think I blushed. You may all be thinking- What??? She blushes??? I've never seen her blush... it's not like he was hitting on me. They seemed like a really great couple and I had been joking with them both previously- the entire exchange was very low key, not exaggerated and sarcastic- it was just such a genuine comment of appreciation. Appreciation of my sense of humor, by a complete and total stranger.

I think I blushed.