- Joined
- May 11, 2010
- Messages
- 20,703
- Location
- Charlotte, NC
- Display Name
Display name:
Snorting his way across the USA
I'll start...
So there I was, in the parking lot behind the pub. We will call her... Grandma Mattie. That is her car parked in the back. The aging Accord looks like it had done two tours in Afghanistan. But, this isn't about her, but it is her car.
We will call her, Sally. Grandma Mattie's daughter. Grandma Mattie's controlling daughter. Grandma Mattie's frumpy looking, 50's year old daughter. Grandma Mattie's frumpy looking, been unemployed for a while living at home, 50's year old daughter. Well, frumpy looking doting daughter too. Because she just popped the hood of Grandma Mattie's car, and was standing there holding an unopened jug of antifreeze. Baby looked confused. Understand that is 'baby' with a lowercase B, I only capitalized it because it was the beginning of a sentence. Let's be clear on that. She is just kind of staring blankly at the engine compartment.
"Uh, this is the coolant reservoir" I say to her, pointing to it. Explaining that you really don't want to pop the radiator cap when the engine is hot and even if it isn't, it rarely is necessary. But I suspect she doesn't know what a radiator cap is, or a radiator, for that matter. So I unscrew the fill cap. She struggles with how to get the cap off the coolant jug. I depress the lock thingie and open it for her.
"Well, why don't they label it as 'coolant reservoir then?' She demanded, angrily.
"Well, um..." I don't say it, but the appropriate response would be, 'If you don't know what you're looking at, you probably shouldn't be messing with it.' Which, is, pretty much correct as a general standard.
There was actually coolant in the reservoir. It looked a tad low, but not critical low. It's not like it was an immediate crisis. But she poured some in. "Stop!" I say. That's enough. Actually, that was too much.
"Oh, so there was coolant in there?"
"Yes."
"Oh. But, the air conditioner isn't working."
Oh boy. I try to explain to her the difference between an engine cooling system and a vehicular refrigeration system, but as much as I can dumb it down, like 'Jane see Dick run' level, It isn't really working... I'm wasting my time. You know how the eyes of a fish look after it's been sitting on a bed of ice for the last twelve hours? Yeah.
Grandma Mattie thanked me for the help, bought me another glass of wine, and asked me where to get the stuff that will fix the air conditioner. So I guess my next task will be topping off the AC refrigerant. "Just tell them 2000 Honda Accord and they will give you a bottle of the right stuff." And better yet, act confused, and maybe they will charge it up for you so I don't have to do it.
Next.
So there I was, in the parking lot behind the pub. We will call her... Grandma Mattie. That is her car parked in the back. The aging Accord looks like it had done two tours in Afghanistan. But, this isn't about her, but it is her car.
We will call her, Sally. Grandma Mattie's daughter. Grandma Mattie's controlling daughter. Grandma Mattie's frumpy looking, 50's year old daughter. Grandma Mattie's frumpy looking, been unemployed for a while living at home, 50's year old daughter. Well, frumpy looking doting daughter too. Because she just popped the hood of Grandma Mattie's car, and was standing there holding an unopened jug of antifreeze. Baby looked confused. Understand that is 'baby' with a lowercase B, I only capitalized it because it was the beginning of a sentence. Let's be clear on that. She is just kind of staring blankly at the engine compartment.
"Uh, this is the coolant reservoir" I say to her, pointing to it. Explaining that you really don't want to pop the radiator cap when the engine is hot and even if it isn't, it rarely is necessary. But I suspect she doesn't know what a radiator cap is, or a radiator, for that matter. So I unscrew the fill cap. She struggles with how to get the cap off the coolant jug. I depress the lock thingie and open it for her.
"Well, why don't they label it as 'coolant reservoir then?' She demanded, angrily.
"Well, um..." I don't say it, but the appropriate response would be, 'If you don't know what you're looking at, you probably shouldn't be messing with it.' Which, is, pretty much correct as a general standard.
There was actually coolant in the reservoir. It looked a tad low, but not critical low. It's not like it was an immediate crisis. But she poured some in. "Stop!" I say. That's enough. Actually, that was too much.
"Oh, so there was coolant in there?"
"Yes."
"Oh. But, the air conditioner isn't working."
Oh boy. I try to explain to her the difference between an engine cooling system and a vehicular refrigeration system, but as much as I can dumb it down, like 'Jane see Dick run' level, It isn't really working... I'm wasting my time. You know how the eyes of a fish look after it's been sitting on a bed of ice for the last twelve hours? Yeah.
Grandma Mattie thanked me for the help, bought me another glass of wine, and asked me where to get the stuff that will fix the air conditioner. So I guess my next task will be topping off the AC refrigerant. "Just tell them 2000 Honda Accord and they will give you a bottle of the right stuff." And better yet, act confused, and maybe they will charge it up for you so I don't have to do it.
Next.