...or...
...how my decrepit red car was recently touched by an angel...
so, about two or three months ago now, i took my car in to be seen by a mechanic; chinese mechanic, speaks enough english to explain to me why i should just trust his superior experience and wisdom and knows enough car-part-related hand-gestures to explain most of the basics. so, basically, i trust the guy. also, he came highly recommended from a person whose opinions on such matters i not only trust, but prize. there.
so, after the mechanic and his tireless, indomitable crew took to my engines and made whatever was wrong right again, one of them proceeded to explain to me why one more thing should be fixed soon, that it would cost so much and take so much more time, but that it could theoretically be put off for quite some time. ah, so much closer to the bones of the thing now.
so, i've been driving around in my beat-up excuse for a red sports car, complete with hand-me-down rims from my little brother (i think i helped pay for them once upon a time, so they're kinda mine too?), and periodically stopping to refill the transmission fluid (that little cup that wants more and more DOT-3 or DOT-4 fluids, like an ever thirsting infant) in order to be able to, well, to shift. this has been going on for about the last three or four days, maybe.
so, i was driving around the new neighborhood, finally getting around to checking the quality level of our local KFC, when, while waiting for a left-turn light to go green, all pressure seemed to drop, literally drop right out from under my clutch. i rammed it out of first and into neutral with the very last of its juice. and i sat there idling in the left turn lane of a pretty busy, pretty major intersection, wondering what the fuck i could possibly do. i clicked on the hazards, yanked up the emergency break, and opened the driver's side door.
when the light finally turned green-arrow for us, i dropped the brake handle and started heaving my car through its left turn. the intersection was relatively level, maybe slightly uphill towards the middle, but i was making decent progress, yelling, huffing and screaming all the way, basically, cursing my car and cheerleading for myself simultaneously.
i was surrounded on all possible quarters by onlookers sitting smugly and snugly inside their properly maintained, properly operating vehicles. the light was still green, and the folks behind me in turn for the same left turn had thankfully begun creeping their asses around me, politely abstaining from honking any horns or even shouting curses at me or any of my potential progeny. i was relieved. i was about two-thirds of the way through my turn. i was handling things about as well as could be imagined...by me...for me...under those circumstances.
suddenly, it was as if someone had tilted the axis of the very earth underneath my feet. the car was rolling along nicely and would easily make it into the parking lot entrance in time to block no further traffic. i let out a whoop of pure, mad joy and triumph. and while my head lolled back in ecstasy, out of the corner of my eye, i noticed a man, either white or latino, not sure, sort of pushing along behind the car, trying not to look like he had noticed my "whoop". and then i saw his face sour a little and realized i had slacked on my end of the pushing.
by the time i had my car settled nicely in front of an autozone and right next to a 7-11 (that's a convenience store, by the way; 24 hours of sorta-surveillance) and had caught sufficient breath to turn and thank the man for his invaluable assistance, he had vanished into the night. which in itself was of course another sort of kindness on his part towards me.
when i got home, at some point, the living room conversation turned to things like kharma, and i wished out loud for all to hear that i hoped instant kharma were true, because that guy deserved something for helping me, at least, as far as i'm concerned. and i got no damned opportunity to thank him either...but i should sound more appreciative and less bitter about it, shouldn't i?
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