Pissing on the Highway

I knew it was a mistake as soon as it slipped out of my mouth. It was tempting fate and fate called me out. I should never, repeat - never, say my car is running well.

I had a date this afternoon to meet with some old co-workers on the other side of town for a couple of beers. One guy had come in from North Carolina which was the impetuous for the meeting. I took my time in getting there. I first went to a track meet at my son's high school, but it was over before I even got there as far as his performance went. So, I took a leisurely route to the southwest corner of the metro so that I would not sit there at the bar before everyone else got there.

I eventually arrived at the prearranged basic Minnesota sports bar, and it was there at the stoplight on the crossroads, that I saw the steam coming out from under my hood. Seconds later the warning lights on my dashboard lit up. Shit. I headed for the gas station across the bar where I was originally headed.

I took me a while after lifting the hood and adding coolant to the nearly empty reservoir, to see where the leak was occuring. It was a T-fitting just behind the engine block and it was pissing the coolant that I recently added in spurts like a bladder challenged octogenarian at 3 AM. Shit. This car was going no where without repair.

Well, there was nothing to do but buy a gallon of antifreeze at the gas station and drive across the road to the bar for a couple of beers while the engine cooled off and I was able to find a flat-bed tow truck to take my ailing baby back home. And that's what happened. Unfortunately, I had to leave before my salad came, but I did get in a nice visit with these guys I used to work with.

Now tomorrow, I need to try to source and purchase a replacement part and make the swap so that I can drive up north for a business meeting and to see the progress of the house project. Wish me luck.