Do you ever have one of those days when you wake up so angry that you want to rip paper, beat a drum with a stick of pepperoni, eat raw cookie dough at a Weight Watchers Convention, and show cows pictures of hamburgers. You know, super villain stuff. That is how I woke up today. After getting a paper cut from the papers I was tearing, eating the pepperoni, and not being able to find a Weight Watcher (I live in a chunky neighborhood) or a cow (they don’t like living in this part of town due to the chunky neighbors love of roast beef), I decided to take it up a notch. I did something that was truly horrifying since my mood was bad already. My car now has a new alternator.
Before you jump to any erroneous conclusions, yes I did do it myself. Normally, I don’t like to do mechanical work since I have limited skills in spite of my dad’s best efforts. He tried and tried to teach me about motors and carburetors and the joy of peeing down the drain the garage. Okay, the peeing part I liked. Now, thanks to his tutelage, I can change the oil or the spark plugs and have excellent urinal aim. I have changed a fuel pump which involved removing the bed from a Ford Ranger. Gas tanks don’t drop far enough when you don’t have a car lift. Who knew? But this project was one that I faced with courage, determination, several YouTube videos on my computer and alcohol. You would think the booze would have been a deterrent. It helped. Trust me.
This is where the article gets technical. I removed the doomalflatchy from the gizmo. I took out two bolts to free up the whoziwhatsit, then had to remove the nut that freed up the other part of the whoziwhatsit. It was at this point that I realized the doohickey had broken off the gizmo so I would need to get a new doohickey before the gizmo would work right. After taking the snakenstein belt off with the spring loaded zipzip bouncing back cutting my finger, the alternator was free to fall on my foot. I won’t bother telling you about putting the new one on because I was drinking by that point and it’s all a little fuzzy.
It only took two trips to the auto parts store, eighteen band-aids, three stitches, one new tool (Yea!) and a five shots of spiced rum and butterscotch schnapps. The shots are equal parts of each, placed in a shaker with ice, and poured into shot glasses. It is so good it makes you forget about the blood loss from your hand being mangled in a snakenstein belt that did not want to go back on the way it came. These shots are a must-have for any auto repair task.
So who needs help? I’m ready to try my hand at fixing your car. Did I ever tell you about the time I broke a gas tank while changing the oil. Funny story…