New Jen's Horde


Saturday, December 03, 2005

How I hit myself with my own car...

 
...or "Why I don't think IQ tests mean a darn thing."

I mentioned on Thursday that even though I've been tested a few different times and been found to have an IQ score in the "genius" levels, I don't think that it really means anything because I'm capable of doing completely moronic things. (And no Running2Ks, I didn't even join Mensa, because the idea of a room full of people like me is kind of scary. Hopefully they're not all similarly afflicted, though.)

So, I promised to tell you all the story of how I hit myself with my own car.

Back in the early 90's, when Davin and I were in the "ramen noodles every day" phase of our relationship, we had a really crummy Datsun 1200 with starter motor problems. You know, starter motors cost $35, who has money for that!? So, sometimes it started, sometimes it didn't.

Once you got it going, it was fine to drive, except for the fact that both the floorboards and the exhaust system had rusted out, so the passenger cabin would fill with noxious gases. But, if you rolled the windows down you didn't get TOO sick, and it was better than the car we'd had before this which had no reverse gear...

Back to the Datsun, if it didn't start the regular way, you simply had to get behind the wheel, put the car in neutral, turn the key until the dashboard lights came on, and then get out, pop the hood and use a screwdriver to make a connection between two parts of the starter motor solenoid. Or so Davin says, I just knew where the two places were.

One day I was at a little local gas station in Greeley, Colorado, fueling up my car for the drive back to Boulder, when the car wouldn't start. I gave it a couple of tries but it just wasn't going to turn over. At this point I see a couple of guys inside the service station kind of pointing at me and starting to come out to help me.

I'm sure they had the best of intentions, but at the time the hyper-feminist in me (she's calmed down a lot in the intervening years) came out and was convinced they were laughing at me and I had to show them that a woman could handle a car.

In my haste to get out there and start my own car before they could get across the tiny parking lot and gasp help me, I neglected to put the car in neutral. Just as the guys were within speaking distance of me, I made the electrical connection under the hood and the car LURCHED forward, crashing into my shins. It knocked me backwards out of my Birkenstocks, and onto my butt, gashing and bruising both legs in the process.

To add insult to injury, the car stalled and sputtered, so I had to accept help not only starting the damn thing again, but they also aided me in getting up off the ground and looked at my legs to make sure I didn't need medical attention, too.

Yep, I sure showed them! Showed them I'm an idiot.

Labels:


Comments:
HA! I didn't think it would be done, but you've proved me wrong. You CAN be the victim as well as the assailant. Did you sue yourself?
 
Oh my that is so sad!
 
Oh, what a horrible situation! I mean, great blog fodder, but ouch! on so many levels.
 
It turned out OK, Running, really it did! It took me down a few pegs when I was a little too full of myself, and no real harm was done. :-) And, even at the time (well, OK, about 20 minutes later) I could laugh at it...
 
Well I hope you have a more dependable car now...heehee!

Btw, don't feel so bad about hitting yourself. My mom and I have taken turns hitting each others cars (at seperate times, but by accident).
 
OK, but were the Birkenstocks ok?
 
Sheri, what happened to your boyfriend's car? That sounds like a story in itself.

M.C., If I thought I could have gotten any money out of myself, I might have considered it!

Mommy D, thank you for your sympathy.

Trinity, yikes! You'll have to tell us how that all happened!

Running, yes, the Birks were just fine, and I wore them for years after that :-)

Texas_Ivy, thank you.

BSTS, thank you, I like having people laugh WITH me much better :-D
 
IQ must mean Idiot Quotent!
 
That must be it, Captain! Thanks for clearing that up! :-) It certainly makes sense in my case...
 
I gotta go post my silly car stories...
 
If they weren't laughing before, they were laughing for sure after you flew back onto your behind.
 
Holy cow! I know ages ago, when I was 18, I had the same, "I can do it!" attitude...I was pulled off to the side of the road, spraying tons of starter fluid into the engine of my suddenly lifeless POS car (like my dad did, only I didn't remember where he sprayed it, so I did it all over) and these two men who had pulled over came flying up to me, yelling, "STOP! You're going to start a fire!" I looked at them like they had two heads. They did get my car started though, and I felt like a real heel!

Thinking about getting knocked on your butt - ow!
 
OMG! You were lucky only your pride was injured.
 
I scored a 151, but I know I'm an idiot(about a billion years ago in college..I'm convinced I'm near chimp range now), a test would only tell the world. My BH rated Mensa with his LSAT score (still can't find the hamper with his socks though).
 
Renee, I'll be watching!

Jamie, they may STILL be laughing for all I know. I probably deserve it...

Sheri, good riddance!

Lisa, that IS scary! Davin and his friend used to burn that stuff for fun (we lived up the mountains, there was nothing to do but burn or inhale automotive chemicals, either way kills brain cells...)

cube, luckily, at that point in my life I had pride to spare.

Sallwood, I'm seeing a pattern here... Hmmmm.
 
Your post about cars reminds me, sort of when I had a convertible, that the top blew off of and i couldn't afford to replace, scared many a young lady to death, as the only way to stay dry in the rain was very fast driving. Stan
 
I can see how that would be scary, Stan!
 
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?