The weekend had finally arrived. Too bad Lauren is just as busy on the weekends as she is during the week; it would be nice to have a day off every few months...She was vigorously attacking her to-do list of 20+ things when she was delayed by a most unfortunate dilemma.
Her car would not start. *melodramatic music turns mournful* Oh dear, could it be?? Has the life of her battery come to an end?
Tune in next time - nah, just kidding...I wouldn't want you to endure such suspense.
What is a girl supposed to do? Call Daddy, of course! He confirmed my suspicion that it was most likely the battery. Since he is obviously too far away to physically help me, I then turned to Grandpa. But alas! he was not home and neither was my uncle...and my other uncle was out of town. Great. Now what...
Well, I decided I would just try to take care of it myself, thank you very much. I have jump-started cars before, so I thought that if I could get the battery started, I could drive to the nearest auto parts store to have them check my battery and buy a new one if need be (at 5:00pm on Saturday, mind you). It soon became clear to me that my plans would not work. There was one big thing that stood in my way...getting the car out of my garage. That just so happens to be 3,350 lbs of problem right there, folks. I'm not going to disclose my weight, but suffice it to say that, despite my best efforts and toughest grunting, the car was not going to make it out of the garage. The following pictures reveal the discouraging results of my labor.
Pathetic, isn't it? Yes, I know, it's time to start lifting weights...
After standing dejectedly by my car and staring at this frustration through teary eyes, I finally decided to call Grandpa. After all, I had to arrange to borrow a vehicle so I could make it to church on Sunday; I had to work in the nursery and go to a meeting afterwards. He stopped and helped me get the battery out and then drove me down to O'Reilly's (which happens to be open until 8!).
The guy put my battery on the tester, and said "I'm guessing it has at least 500 cold cranking amps." I didn't know anything about that, but I leaned over and looked at my battery sitting on the counter. "Um, it says on the label '590 cold cranking amps.'" "Oh, okay." he says.
After a few moments, we had the diagnosis: the battery was bad and did need to be replaced. Then he went to the computer and started asking questions about my car. I answered all his questions (and just between you and me, I think he was trying to act like he wasn't impressed that I knew the answers). Come on, man, this girl knows a few things about her car, okay??
Well, long story short, it gets even better (depending on how you are looking at it...personally, I thought it was a little awkward...). After I paid for the new battery and we were turning to leave, the guy asked my grandpa "Are you wanting to get her married off? I've got a 22-year old son I am trying to marry off, do we need to set something up?"
???
Grandpa started to respond "Well, that is about her age..." but I quickly cut him off and tried to end any further actions by laughing it off and saying "Well, I'm not 22. I'm 24."
The two young men at the counter were staring and snickering.
Oh dear, I was just trying to get a battery...I didn't expect an offer of marriage.
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