Push!

Remember the time...that Wil came and rescued me at work? Yeah, that was today. We decided that the battery was dead on my car, but we didn't have tools to fix it and so we thought, let's jump the car and drive it home so we can change the battery.

I then gave a sound warning...my car sucks so much life out of the battery that after you jump it and drive away, it sometimes turn off when you come to a stop at a stop sign or a light. So, Wil thought...let's take it on the freeway because we won't have to stop (actually, I don't think he really believed me because it makes no sense that a car would die when it stopped if the only problem was the battery). Except...we forgot it was rush hour! I was following behind, but I had lost sight of him. By the time I was passing my favorite husband, the car had turned off...he was way behind the car in front of him with no headlights...on I-10...just before the exit for 35th Avenue...did I mention this was at rush hour?

Oh no, I exclaimed as I reached for my phone to call him. He was already calling me, so by the time I picked up my phone, I just had to answer it. What do I do? I asked? Wil decided to try to coast over (from the middle lane) into the exit lane. I was instructed to get off at 35th, take McDowell Rd. to 27th Avenue and get back on the freeway so I could come up behind him. I did that and called back...now what do I do? He then explained that I was going to inch his car forward slowly and push my car (that he was driving) off the freeway. AHHHHHHHHH! I'm going to WHAT? Yes, that's right...I had to drive behind and push the car off of the freeway...it was too dangerous for either of us to get out of our respective cars. So I turned on the flashers and focused my eyes on the rearview mirror as I pleaded, please don't hit me, please don't hit me with all of the cars that were whizzing by.

We were off the freeway and almost to the light when it turned red. There were several cars already stopped, and since I couldn't really see how far they were in front of the Corolla that I was pushing, I didn't know where to stop...so I stopped too soon, but Wil was waving his arm at me to keep pushing him so I was scooting up, but it was on a hill and the Corolla is a stick shift so it was rolling backwards at me as I was going forward, and Wil didn't want to hit the brakes because then when I tried to push the car that would cause even more damage than them hitting. I like to say that is when I dropped him (sort of...figuratively). Once our cars reconnected (in a not so gentle manner), I could see Wil's shoulders and head shaking because he was laughing so hard. It was pretty funny...well it would have been, if I wouldn't have been so scared/uttering rarely used cusswords under my breath.

We safely made it to a Jack in the Box parking lot at 35th Avenue and McDowell...otherwise known as the ghetto. And after two trips to Checkers...and nearly three hours after I first discovered my car would not turn on, we returned home. It was the battery...phew!