Flat batteries, fisticuffs and fries.

So, the car is mended. It was simply an old and weary battery. Empty cells and just too worn out to even cough that big old car into action.
So simple, it would seem wouldn't it? This is me though, the blog gods know that I thrive on drama and they shine down on me.
I pay £18.80 a month to the R.A.C. Seems a bit steep but I have the queen of services, home call outs, roadside assistance, car towed at no cost, taken from anywhere in the country to any garage of my choice and a few other things thrown in, oh any car I am in, not just mine. A got a free pen and note book too.
Peace of mind is the very best gift that comes with this membership. I am such a girl when it comes to cars, I only just learned how to open the bonnet on this car, I have absolutely no idea what I meant to do once it IS open.
Breaking down brings me out in a cold sweat and panic attacks, I need my breakdown recovery, it makes me feel safe and looked after.
Anyhoo, checking my bank statements the other day I saw that the payment had come out and very briefly I wondered if I was happy paying that.....today I know I am. Fixed car and entertainment thrown in.
I called the man from the RAC first thing this morning and explained that the car had coughed and died, blah blah.
"A man will be with you within 2 hours madam" And 20 minutes later, there he was. Hmming and hahing, checking and such like, battery is dead madam, empty cell and ........you get the drift. So, he got it started and assured me that should I drive to the local auto parts store, it would start again so I could bring new battery home and have H fit it.
Took my little one with me, bless him, and off we went, at 9am.
Stopped at store, turned off car, just for hell of it turned key just to make SURE it was going to start. Dead. As a doornail.
Bought battery. £68 minus a few pennies, acceptable-ish.
" I wonder, is there anyone who could fit that for me because, guess what, RAC man was wrong, car is dead, have small child, it is so cold, am personally completely useless etc. "
" Nope" ( sucking in of breath between teeth)
"hmmm, perhaps you can jump start it? "
" Nope, gotta brand new pack of leads but can't open it for you"
"Oh, right, shall have to call RAC back out, how dreary. Never mind"
Tut, sigh, grab battery, "s'pose I can do it, we're not a damn garage though"
Such finesse, customer care and chivalry. Not.
I am now faced with that hideous situation where I am stuck in a car that doesn't work with a grumpy git resentfully 'fixing it'. Lovely. So, polite chat it is then.
While he crashed about, he gave me a monologue of how, if anything goes wrong, I'll blame him....
'I won't, thankyou for doing this.'
'they all say that and then they DO blame me, we're not even a garage'
Whilst that last comment gave me a slight feeling of panic ( what did he mean they all say that and then DO blame him?) Is he as good as me at fixing things car like and blokeish. ( and yes that probably IS a sexist remark, get over it.) I felt I should sort of make him understand that I wouldn't thump him and that I DID know the nature of his work by telling him my brother works for this very company in another town.
Ah, light in the gloom....we chatted about the company and I told him who my brother was, he knows him and then said
"so, how's your dad?"
" Oh, he died"
Then came a wierd sort of thrill that comes with being able to make somebody squirm. Not the nicest thing to admit to enjoying but, well.......it is sort of fun. Turns out that dad often popped in and sent messages to Dave ( because it would have cost 10p to call David and he could get to the store for oooh about £1's worth of petrol, ) he always bought his car parts from this store because if he called Dave first, he would get the employees discount.
So after a fleeting sadistic smirk at the look on my knight in grumbling armour's face I felt sorry for him because he was genuinely sad to hear about dad.
Whenever I have to say the words out loud, that my dad isn't here anymore, I experience the same feeling of disbelief. It still makes my whole heart and soul lurch. I still miss him every bit as much. It still hurts.
So, the battery was fitted...HOORAY. Dead. Completely.
Long story short. I didn't blame him. The RAC man though, on his return. Did. In fact there was jolly near fisticuffs,
' what d'ya do? You blew the whole damn fuse, its' dead'
'well, couldn't leave her sitting there after you sent her ....why didn't you follow her here to make sure the car started? What's she paying that monthly fee for? You're meant to fix it or take it to a garage, we aren't a garage'
' you blew it, you knocked it and blew it and .....'
So, he towed us to a more selubrious setting ( Mac D's) and Eli and I had lunch ( yes LUNCH people, having left at 9am!!!) and hot chocolate and warmed our frozen souls. We then wondered around Sainsburys and did our shopping, while mr RAC man drove around to find a new fuse, (that naturally was difficult to locate) and just in time the car was done, new battery, new fuse ( not charged for) and off home in time to get the boy to nursery.
That old car positively THRUSTS into action, almost makes me jump, so eager is it to start.
I was so pleased with it, being so old and yet so gloriously ready to keep working with nothing more than a new battery and fuse, that I took it through the car wash. Clean inside AND out, heavens to betsy.
I am rather cheery tonight, good day and really good drama on TV. Easily pleased, the best way to be I always say.