07 February 2011

Another New York Morning

I stuck my stuff in the car on the way to work this morning and asked The Mate, who was already inside, to pop the hood so I could add windshield washer fluid. I fiddled with the latch for a while* and finally got the hood up -- just in time to see a rat slither away between the battery and the engine block.

I dropped the hood, screamed, jumped back, tripped over an empty windshield washer fluid bottle (it's the season), managed to stay on my feet, and ended up in the middle of the street, where fortunately there wasn't a car coming or this might have been tragedy, not comedy.

When I found my footing again, The Mate was still sitting in the passenger seat, open-mouthed by now. "Pop the hood again." I fumbled some more and got the hood open again as The Mate emerged from the car and I told him what happened, and filled up the windshield washer tank.

"You screamed like a girl," he said. Well, yeah. Hey, New York, after twenty-two years, it seems like you still have a surprise or two in store for me.

We got back in the car and I drove off, with my head practically sticking out of the roof of the car on account of being high on all that adrenaline. "Next time, knock first," said the ever-practical Mate.
*I've had so many cars by now, it always takes a while to remember how to open the current one. The list: '76 Datsun 210, '86 Dodge Omni, '90 Dodge Colt, '93 Nissan Sentra, '96 VW Golf (fun to drive, but a money sink--got rid of it after six months), '99 Toyota Corolla, '07 Honda Fit. More trivia: I like the little hatchbacks; I like manual transmission; I've never bought a new car.