A coupla months ago, Mister’s youngest daughter, Cranky, decided she needed a new car. She borrowed some money off of her grandparents (maternal side), and Mister threw in a couple dollars as well.
Craigslist searching and calls and emails began. Mister took her to look at a couple cars, none that she liked. She only had like $1,800. I’m not sure what kind of car she expected at that price. Finally she found a white Cavalier that she decided was suitable. Plans were made to check it out. Cranky and her beau, Merv, met Mister at the apartments where this car was located. After driving it and looking under the hood, they decided it was acceptable.
It turned into a while thing.
The guy wanted 1900 for it. Mister offered 1500. The guy selling it was not the actual owner, the owner was elsewhere (sketchy?) and the guy couldn’t get a hold of the owner. So Mister, Cranky and Merv left, and car guy said he’d call them if the owner called. Car guy called Mister about 15 minutes later and said he got a hold of the owner who said he’d take 1600. Mister agreed, and car guy drove the car to a parking lot somewhere to where Mister and company already were. Mister pulled a front plate off Cranky’s truck (illegal! Yay!), and put it on the car. Off they went with the new-to-her Cavalier, Mister leading, with Cranky behind him and Merv behind her in her truck heading to Merv’s house.
The guy told Mister he’d put 20 bucks of gas in it the other day, but the gas gauge didn’t always work right so he said don’t trust it. So Mister told Cranky they should stop at a station near home to fill up.
So, they get to Merv’s house (Christmas lights are still up!) and Mister leaves. Merv decides to take it for a ride around the block. He gets to the corner and the car dies, won’t start. He pops the hood, no antifreeze. They walk back to the house and get antifreeze and put it in the car. The car still will not start. Panic ensues. Merv and his dad are certain the head is blown. Cranky is frantic. I call my brother Jed, and Jed tells me what to check and I relay this information to Mister and he tries to relay this information to Cranky who is now shrieking and freaking and calling the seller very bad names.
Finally, after explaining to Jed the symptoms and that there is no oil under the car, no antifreeze in the oil, or any other tell-tale signs of motor death, he says “Gosh, it just sounds like it’s out of gas”.
“Oh, no,’ I say. “They stopped for gas.”
Mister hears me and says, “No we didn’t.”
“What? You said you were!”
“Cranky didn’t want to.”
“OMG, Jed. The damn car is out of gas. I know it.”
Mister relays THIS to Cranky and she and the Merv are certain that is not the problem, the ENGINE IS BLOWN AND THE SELLER IS A JERK AND EVERYONE WILL DIE.
Mister asks if they have a gas can with gas to put in it, to rule it out.
Nope. No gas can
Who doesn’t have a gas can? Other than apartment dwellers, I suppose. But this house is in the country. Seriously? How to you mow your lawn? With goats? (That actually looked like a possibility.)
Mister tells Cranky he is bringing over our gas can.
Cranky is certain this will not fix it. Destruction to all.
We head to Merv’s with the gas can (filled with gas! for our mower!) and a flashlight. It’s getting dark by now! Mosquitoes! Wee!
Mister puts gas in the car.
Cranky and Merv are still very certain this will not work.
Mister takes the keys.
Mister starts the car.
The damn thing was out of gas.
Stern statements are made to Cranky that, one day, very soon, like yesterday, she may want to try listening to her dad, because very often, he is right.
I refrained from suggesting to Mister that perhaps he should not let Cranky call the shots.