No, I don’t wanna get married. (PC)

by Celtic Skye

Posted to Stories on 2002-12-19 21:17:00

“Mary, get up.”

“Uhhhh…I don’t wanna get up Lee. It’s Saturday.”

“Well, we need to go get the battery for your car because I’m leaving for Atlanta tomorrow.”

“Oh, alright,” I mumbled as I crawled out of bed. I really don’t want to do this right now. It’s ten in the morning and I went to bed about 4 hours ago.

I managed to find some pants and my slippers. I’m going to Auto Zone and I don’t think I’m going to be meeting the man of my dreams in the time it takes me to exchange the battery so I really don’t give a fuck what I look like.

Waum….Waum Waum….

That is the sound of my 1966 Ford Mustang TRYING to crank with what seems like a dead battery. A battery that I bought brand new not even a month ago. Auto Zone is lucky that the battery has a lifetime warranty or they would be dealing with me and my Irish temper.

“Ok, I got jumper cables in the back seat. What we’ll do is hook the batteries together as if we were going to jump the car and we’ll let your battery charge my alternator,” I say to Lee.

“My thoughts exactly,” he replies.

So that’s what we do.

Whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp…ahhhh the sweet sound of my baby purring in the morning along with that sweet smell of exhaust. Gatta love cars.

– –

“Yeah, I need someone to come out here and test my battery to let me know if I need a new one.”

“Jimmy’s already out there,” the man at the counter grunts to me and points out the door.

“Thanks.”

I walk up to Jimmy with Lee following close behind and tell him I need him to test my battery.

Jimmy finishes testing the battery on the Jeep and asks which one is mine.

“The blue Mustang”

He doesn’t hook up the battery tester. He hooks up the amp meter. He tells me that it’s the alternator and the voltage regulator. That makes sense. After Andy drove my car so hard and caused the battery to take a flying leap to its death (the battery jumped from where it was supposed to be onto the alternator fan), I knew that the alternator and some other parts were going to need replacing because of all that battery acid.

“I need an alternator for a 1966 Ford Mustang with a 302 v8, 2 barrel carburetor and I need a voltage regulator.”

“Mmmk…we have both those parts and it’s gonna cost about sixty bucks.”

“Dammit. Lee, I can cover it if you don’t cash that check till I get paid again.”

“Ok, that’s fine, just let me know when I can cash that check,” Lee replied, completely understanding of how it is to be a college student.

I got my alternator and voltage regulator and went outside and popped the hood. Took of Gabe’s jacket and threw it in the back seat, tied my hair in a knot, and handed Lee my rings. I was ready to work on my car.

Opened up the back of Lee’s Saturn and grabbed his tool box wishing that I had never gotten involved with Jeremy. I would still have all my beautiful tools that I got from my Dad for graduation. That beautiful socket and ratchet set, the wrenches, screwdrivers, and pliers. Dammit I miss those tools.

I grabbed a wrench and disconnected the battery so I didn’t shock the hell out of myself while doing all this work and proceeded to unbolt the alternator.

“Wha yea iss theses?”

“Uhh…It’s a ’66,” I replied to the Mexican that had snuck up on me in a real shitty Mitsubishi Eclipse who couldn’t really speak English that well…

“I thought so. Mind if I loo ‘round?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

If that man touches my car in one way that I don’t like, I am going to take all my Chunky aggression out on him.

Why are his little friends starring at me?

Oh yeah. I have tits and I’m in the parking lot of Auto Zone taking the alternator off my car like I know what the hell I’m doing….oh wait. I do know what the hell I’m doing.

Finally, the old alternator is off and the new one is in place…I think.

Dammit. I didn’t secure it all the way just in case I got the wiring wrong, and of course, they got to go changing the colors they used to label things in 1966. Now the red is the black, the black is the white, and the white is the red.

Or is it the black is the red, the red the white and the white the black.

Uhhhhh…

I finally got everything wired right. Yahoo!!!!

“I didn’t know you were the one doing the work,” the manager remarks as he stands outside talking to a woman he knows.

I look up, wipe the sweat off my brow and said, “Yep. I do all the work on this car.”

“You need any help?”

I look up again and this time its some old biker looking dude.

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You positive?”

“Dude, I rebuilt this engine on my own. I can handle an alternator change.”

“You married?”

“Nope.”

“You wanna be?”

“Nope.” Especially not to you.

– –

“Ok, Lee, I think we got the alternator on good. Lets do the voltage regulator so we can get out of here.”

We quickly changed the voltage regulator. It took like three minutes. Then I changed out the battery because running the car on the battery alone drained it and got the new batter in.

I think we’re ready to go.

“SONOFABITCH!!!”

The car still won’t crank and now it’s making a really horrid noise. What the fuck is that noise anyway?

“That noise is your starter cylinoid,” said Bubba or Jimmy or Leon or what ever the rednecks name was.

So I went inside and bought another starter cylinoid and made Lee change that because it has to do with electronics and I don’t know enough about electronics to trust myself enough to do anything electronic on my car.

Done. It took an hour.

In one hour I had done a lot of work on the Mustang. Been stared at by some Mexicans. Gotten a few looks of doubt from the manager of Auto Zone. And, I got a marriage proposal. That’s a lot of shit in one day.

I want to go home and go back to bed.

Whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp…

Persephone started right up. It’s all been a complete success and I deserve a cookie. I have cookies at home. I’m gonna go home, eat some cookies, and go back to sleep.


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