Broken A/C

“…You have got to be kidding. Not right now. Please. Ok, maybe if I turn it off and turn it on again. Nope, still squealing like alien weaponry. No cool air coming out. THIS is going to be the best summer ever…”

Compressor died in my Isuzu last week. It died on me while I was stuck in traffic on 495, trying to make my way out to Reston. There are two things you can’t do without in a car, music and A/C. Lose either one and you quickly find yourself daydreaming about driving the car to the edge of a riverbank and releasing the parking brake.

Is there ever a good time for a car repair? Feel the pinch whenever it’s time to put gas in this beast, so I know getting it fixed is going to open my nose like some horseradish. Why? Because Isuzus are built like a fraternity prank; to fix one thing, you must first take apart 12 other things that are nicely nestled in the way. Why? So you can forget how to put the car back together and wind up paying six times more to have the mechanic clean up the mess you made, who invariably thinks it’s cute to ask why you didn’t bring it to him in the first place. The family mechanic can’t give me an exact quote on how much the repair’s going to cost, but I just know it’s going to end up in the $700-$1200 range. The truck is not even worth $700-$1200. It hasn’t been for at least five years. The bicycle my co-worker rides to work is worth more than my car. At least now we have something in common though; neither of us have air conditioning.

Haven’t spent it yet, but can’t stop thinking about all the things I was going to do with that money. Oh it was going to be so good. I was going to be saving up and not buying air compressors, and hanging out with friends and not buying air compressors, and traveling on the road to do comedy gigs and not buying air compressors, and maybe finally invest in a laptop and oh yeah, NOT BUYING AIR COMPRESSORS! But all that changed because guess what son!?! It’s time to buy an air compressor.

I HAVE to do it too. The way I perspire in summer heat is unnatural, looks like I’m melting. Was waiting at a crosswalk Tuesday morning, just in the forty-five seconds it took for the light to change my forearms started to glisten like I had been landscaping. I sweat too much not to be a 70’s soul singer; Teddy Pendergrass wishes he had my pores.

Fate can be a sore loser sometimes, always likes to hook you up with a few groin kicks whenever something good is about to happen for you.
"Hey Mike, look! Is that success and everything you dreamed of on the horizon? Nope, it's just some freshly punted gonads, might recognize them, that’s right they're yours baby! ...hey, hey, don't be like that, you gotta remember to take it all in stride, enjoy the journey man. It's just like a footprints poster, only with your nuts instead of feet. Think of it as a cameo..."

Can't tell what's more sad, having to spend in the neighborhood of $1200 you didn't plan on or realizing your finances are so tight that news of a car repair hits with the gravity of an unplanned pregnancy.
"What? Oh… No, no, I'm good, just need to sit down for a minute and breathe. How did this happen? Nevermind, doesn't matter now. Are you sure? Of course you are. It’s ok, we'll figure this out, it's going to be ok… just changes the plan a bit..."

I’ll get it fixed in the next couple of weeks, but until then will just have to make due pretending I used to be Special Forces and am too tough for conditioned air. Or maybe I’m Denzel in Training Day and need to keep the windows down so I can hear the streets. Or maybe I’m a comedian of dubious means who’s going to do everything imaginable to avoid getting stuck in traffic on 495. Yay broken stuff.