That brand new fuel pump I had so much fun putting in the other day?
Less than ten miles on it.
Shit the fucking bed while I was sitting behind another car at a very fucking busy intersection with at least ten cars behind me.
It just quit.
The engine died and wouldn’t start.
I tried getting a hold of my wife, five phone calls, two texts and a voice message. Tried calling my insurance to get a tow, must have some kind of virus on my phone, the insurance roadside assistance number has an automated system and wants to send you a text, while you are on the phone, so that you can click on link and sit there and play fucky fuck answering fucking questions that requires a bunch of choices of what the problem is and what services you want. The second my keyboard comes up on the phone, some damn Pop Up fucker blocks it wanting me to install some cutesie emoji bullshit and won’t go away until you click on it to deny it and that act deletes the screen you were wanting to type on. Then I find out that the new phone doesn’t have my home number in it which I never call and have no idea what it is. Tried using the internet and find it using White pages and Emoji Pop Up motherfucker keeps killing that.
This whole time I am sitting there with the emergency flashers on, the door open and waving stupid motherfuckers around who, like the fucking sheep they are, don’t have a fucking clue what to do when something is blocking them from continuing on their preferred trajectory and wind up sitting behind the Bronco with a stupified look on their face.
Finally some Stand Up Dude whipped around me in his pickup and asked me if I wanted him to hook up and drag me across the busy as fuck, major assed intersection to an empty parking lot.
Fuck yes I do.
So he digs a strap and a shackle out, I hook it up, the light changes and off we go.
I have done this for many people in my day so today was my turn, Thank You Lord.
Thank You Robert too, for being a stand up guy.
After he left then I started fucking with the phone again and finally got a real live human being on the line and got the tow truck coming. He showed up, drug it on his truck, dropped me and the miserable fucker off in the driveway and was off to the next call.
I went in the garage, got a 12 volt test light, came in the house, asked the wife to come turn the key on and confirmed the new fuel pump has power and does not run.
I skipped over a bit there because The Wife might just decide to read this later and she is already pissed off at me so I see no reason to leave any evidence out here in the open forever on the fucking internet.
Let’s just say some words were exchanged and leave it at that.
It’s Sunday evening, I am pretty sure I threw the receipt for the pump away ( that exchange I was talking about) and I ain’t fucking with the cocksucker because it is actually raining here and it’s getting dark.
I’m very glad I have that Caballero sitting here for a backup right about now as I have to go back to work tomorrow.
As usual, Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.
I just got off the phone with NAPA and found out that even though I can’t find the damn receipt, I can prove what day I bought it and it has a lifetime warranty. They can look it up by the part number and see when I bought it.
That’s 85 bucks I don’t have to shell out again anyway.