Again, something else is wrong with the car. Shortly after I got it back from The Mechanic Around The Corner, I noticed that it took a few cranks longer for the engine to start. And then, something worse: A couples times after the car started, it would immediately quit on me, lights on the dashboard all lit up.
Seeing that this is winter and I had noticed corrosion around the terminals, I surmised that there wasn't enough juice getting to the ... whereever it goes. So in the past few days I got ready to disconnect the battery and clean the terminals and posts, something that people are supposed to do to prepare for winter, yet something I have never done because I was too afraid to attempt.
The car died on me again last night from the library to home. That's when I decided to fucking do this. I told My Father -- not to ask for his help, just to make sure he knew where I was and what I was doing if I got electrocuted.
Either he didn't understand me or he just thought I was too weak to do this on my own; he got up and went outside and looked at the car himself. He didn't use any of the battery cleaner or brush I bought. Instead, he got some WD-40 and a towel and a light.
There, he told me to open up the trunk and turn the car on -- which, by the way, it did this time with no hesitation at all. My Father sprayed some WD-40 and told me to turn it off and turn it on again. The car started up as if it was new. "That's it," he said, and after a total of 20 minutes, we were back inside.
I want to think that was all that needed to be done. But this is another case where, confronted with a task, he took the lazy way out. I researched on the Internet; WD-40 is only a lubricant, and it has no properties where it eats into rust, so what My Father did didn't do shit. Now, I felt better because the car started without a problem. But we didn't clean the battery.
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There is an event featuring Ricky Rubio of the Timberwolves at the local Lexus dealership tonight; I am blogging right now from their public computer. Since I had time inbetween work and here, I decided to just fucking do this myself. What's the worst that could happen -- I would break off a bolt? I would electorcute myself?
And I did it! I took the terminals off with very little problem; thank God Lexus put a tool bag in the trunk with wrenches that fit the bolts! I used the battery cleaner, the brush, and the protector, I was able to put the terminals back on (negative end out first and on last, so you don't die), and in half an hour, that was it! Seriously, guys, I'm very proud of myself. This is something seemingly everyone knows how to do, and now I can say I know how to do it.
And then I started my car. It started, but with those extra couple seconds that seems to be the norm nowadays. You know, it didn't seem as if there was a whole lot of corrosion on the terminals. So it's not that after all. I don't know what it is. And if the car dies on me again, I'll have to bring it back for repairs again.
One thing through all of this: Since My Father knew my car was in the shop when they came home from vacation, he was harping that The Mechanic Around The Corner did not know what he was doing. He always says that because he's an asshole. But because I don't want him to know, I'm keeping this secret: He might be right. I have spent way too much fixing up this car over the past year, and every time I get it back something else seems to be wrong. This thing with the ignition is only the most overt sign. I feel paranoid when I say it, but I'm really starting to think these guys are ripping me off.
After we went back inside he gave me a card of a shop owned by a friend of his. I usually don't trust Asian shops, but my belief in the one I have now is rapidly diminishing. I think I have to try this guy, or someone other than The Mechanic Around The Corner.
At the very least, though, I can say I know how to clean a car battery.
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