Then we tried to leave.
My car decided that it was tired of running errands, and wasn’t going to run anymore. I headed back into the store with #3 to do some browsing, hoping beyond all hope that I was only dealing with a vapor lock, and that time would resolve this little stumbling block in my day. There was a curious tingle in my stomach though that told me that this would involve lots and lots of zero’s. It wasn’t a vapor lock, so I gave Hubby a call to ask for him to come out and take a gander.
I should mention here, that Hubby is not a mechanic. He can change a tire and the oil, but this wasn’t a tire or the oil. I was actually hoping that the presence of testosterone would scare the car into working. #3 does not count as a testosterone generator as he is only 10; I needed some big guns, so to speak. That was when I discovered that my car is male. Testosterone did not intimidate it whatsoever.
Damn.
So we call AAA, and had the car towed back to our house with the intention of going through the Chilton Guide to see if we could fix this ourselves.
As it turns out, what I though was a Chilton Guide for the Mazda, proved to be a different animal that appears to be more geared for professional mechanics as it takes for granted that the owner has tools and gizmos we have not only never heard of, but wouldn’t recognize it if it bit us on the ass. Fortunately we do the van I can drive until we can afford to have the Mazda fixed.
I never did find a canner today, so the search for that will need to wait until next week.