I am not the most mechanically adept person in the world. I blame my father
for this. He hoarded the tiny bit of mechanical knowledge he did have. In
our many father son talks, the only automotive wisdom he passed on was,
“It’s easy to change an air filter.”

I had to locate the air filter on my own, but it was very easy to change.

Now, at the ripe old age of 31, I still know damn little about what goes
on under the hood. So when the battery of my truck died, I was pretty
excited. THIS was something I knew how to fix. I had TOOLS for this.
I was going to be a MAN.

I removed the battery with a minimum of pain. I only lost one socket
from my wrench set and took just two trips to Grand Auto to get the
right replacement. I was feeling good.

As dusk settled on the suburbs and the Good People in my neighborhood
were sitting down to dinner, I prepared to install my new battery. An
old lady was walking her tiny, useless dog past me. Mightycat was
taking a catnap under the truck. The kid across the street was trying to
look like he wasn’t taking bong hits.

I connected the first cable without incident. But when cable #2 hit the
terminal, all Hell broke loose. A siren louder that God Himself exploded
in my face. I flew backwards out from under the hood, swearing all the
way. Mightycat shot out from under the truck and went right for the old
lady’s little fluff-dog.

The dog was aware of nothing but a giant orange cat running directly
towards it (a cat that sounded like a big, scary car alarm). The dog’s
tiny brain short-circuited and it tried to escape. Unfortunately, it was
attached to a leash.

The sudden noise, the insane dog tearing her arm out of its socket and
the man jumping around screaming “jezuzfuckingchristshitgodDAMNitfuck”
were all too much for her to take. I think here brain overloaded too,
because she just stood there and stared at me for an uncomfortably
long time.

I hope she was wearing Depends.

Yes, the truck alarm armed itself when I connected the battery. No,
I didn’t have the remote handy. Yes, I eventually found the spare remote.
Yes, the batteries in the remote were dead. No, I couldn’t turn off the
alarm. Yes, the stoner across the street nearly died laughing at the scene.

Yes, I suck.

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