It's A Guy Thing

The chariot, aka the little black truck, has been under the weather.
We have been in this new place 15 weeks and have spent 13 of those under the hood of afore mentioned chariot.  

The little black truck did not understand there were things I wanted to see while I was here.  Things like Stone Mountain.  I had seen it when I was fifteen years old and even though I'm sure it has not changed, I wanted to see it again.  Then I wanted to see the Georgia Guidestones.  There is a really weird story that goes with these stones and they are referred to as the American Stonehenge.  No one knows for sure who had them made or their exact purpose, They are engraved in eight different languages and have a set of 10 guides, or commandments, written on them.  But, the little black truck was not in the mood for sightseeing.

I believe I was more for moral support than actually being of any great service, as I watched my husband toiling under the hood.  I also believe I could now take a distributor out, apart and put it back together as many times as I have watched this feat of mechanical wizardry being done.  The most aggravating thing about it was the fact that he got it to run, but it would only run once.  After that, we were back to "square one" trying to figure out the problem.

One lucky weekend, it decided to run for more than one day.  We had found a shop that would work on it, so with me behind the wheel of the little black truck and my husband following in his work vehicle, we set out on a journey of about three miles.  As we were zooming along in two lanes of fast moving traffic, the little black truck decided it had had enough and when it decides that, it gives no warning, it just dies.  It also decided to do this just as I was entering an intersection where the light had turned green.  If you have never driven in the Atlanta, GA area traffic, there is one golden rule never to break and that would be the "don't break down in traffic" rule.  Folks are always in a hurry and this was a Sunday afternoon and suddenly, I was not helping them get to where they needed to be.  

My husband would pull up as close as possible, jump out of his vehicle and give me a push because we could see a place to pull off the road.  It was just up ahead, not too far, maybe half of a country town block.  It looked to me like it was a mile away and if I failed to mention this, I was pushing too.  Yessirree, I was pushing and trying to steer a powerless vehicle with no power steering.  This scenario repeated itself about four times and just before we got to the place to get off the road, I heard someone holler at my husband, "Hey! Ya'll need some help?"  To which he replied, with a smile, "No, we're just trying to get it off the road." 

I was such a hot, sweaty, heaving mess, I didn't even have the strength to argue about it.  I figure it's a guy thing, it ranks right up there with asking for directions.