A Car-tionary Tale

So, as some readers/writers of this blog know, I recently acquired my first car. And then I gave it away.

Well, technically, I lent it to my girlfriend. In its place, I have her truck. Her truck is gianormous. In fact, it is the lordiest truck ever invented. Other important notes: it runs on biodiesel and has an automatic transition. I feel like Gregor Samsa whenever I drive it--those horrifying moments before he figures out that that actually is his arm moving.

I was driving this truck when suddenly, not a block and a half from my front door, it stalled. I tried to start it. Nothing happened. I tried again. Same result. I started to freak out, thinking everything from, "How am I going to get this enormous hulking piece of metal out of the intersection" to, "Oh god, I've killed my girlfriend's truck. I am so-o-o dead." About the time I lay my head on the steering wheel in an I-give-up-this-is-completely-hopeless gesture, I hear a slight tapping at my window. I roll it down.

Crack whore: Sweetie, are you okay?
Me: The truck won't start and I don't know what's wrong and and and
Her pimp: Try starting it again.
Me: (does so)
Her pimp: Do you have it in Park?

So, I put the beast in park and try it again. It starts right away. Then, they ask me for a ride, which I of course give them. To the crack house directly across the street from my house.

I can't wait until my little car with it's manual transmission and my girlfriend driving it return to me.