willie and felecia belong together, all in the name of my focus, man

I never did get to watch that singing show that I had discussed yesterday. Why? Because I was coming down from a major stress attack!

Yesterday afternoon, I leave the office for my pilgrimmage to my boyfriend's job in downtown Atlanta to pick him up and head on home. I'm rolling along in the 5-minute-thunderstorm-of-the-moment, and suddenly, my windshield wipers start going mad slow. Like, I sat at a light and watched the wipers go back and forth, as if hypnotized, about four times. I was thinking, "Wait a minute, am I dreaming this?" Then, my much-loved, brand-new Kelly Rowland cd starts skipping. Or so I thought. I try to turn on the radio, and the whole system just goes off. I'm nearly panicking at this point, and I started putting my foot on the brake to slow down. Then this freakin' light that looks like a person getting beat in the head with an airbag pops up, and I'm thinking, "Oh shit, my car is transforming with me in it!" I stop at the next light, turn on my blinkers, put the car in park, and turn the car off. Poor guys behind me, but oh well. My car wouldn't turn back on after that.

To make a longer story short, I sat for an hour and a half at a firehouse right across from where I stopped after the firefighters came out and pushed my little Focus out of rush hour traffic's way. [I just knew I was gon' die sitting around a corner with my car in park, with trucks coming up on me at 45 mph, and barely getting around me like they didn't know I was sitting there. I think the only reason why the firefighters came out was because they had a call and the firetruck couldn't get around me!] There was an actual fire at my boyfriend's job and he couldn't get away, so he sent his good friend to try to jump me. I was jumped.

I managed to get to J's job when the car died again. Dammit, man! We had to pay $67 bucks to tow it to Firestone by Willie, the man with one good eye and an aggressive driving problem. We got to Firestone 30 minutes before closing time, and they tell me that I would need to replace my battery ($109) and my altenator ($$470!!). Can you believe that?! Oh, and tomorrow. "We don't have the part here in this location. Can I order it for the morning for you?" J and I stared at each other, trying to mentally telepath how in the hell we were going to get home without a car. I considered teleporting. J didn't think it was funny.

We called Felecia, the Checker Cab lady with a crazy fixation on talking 'til your ears bled. We got down the street from the house when I had an epiphany. "Um, babe?" I said to my boyfriend, tentatively, since he was already steamed about having to give up tow money and cab money. "You have the house keys?" We got all the way home with the house keys up in Firestone attached to the car keys. J kept doing this psychotic, lunatic laughing, which freaked me out a little bit. I kept doing comical, cartoon gulps.

$25 bucks later and 1 rainshower, we managed to catch J's good friend (who had jumped me earlier in the day) and he caught the Firestone guys right before they locked up, got the keys for us, and brought them out to the house. Talk about a dedicated friend. I think I'll bake him some brownies or something, since he refused to take a monetary thanks.

We finally got to relax some 4 hours after my ordeal began. And I just knew this adventure was one for the books. Or for the blog.

The moral of the story? Shit, there isn't one. Keep your friends close, and your car's altenator even closer.

And don't be thinking I could afford that damn thing. I'm still pissed about that $500 bucks...especially after J and I took those old ladies hostage and made them withdraw all their savings at Wachovia last night, and I broke a nail. Just kidding. Kinda.

Good credit, people!! Just take the joke!! Or look for us on the national news...