Car Woes

And now, a tale of woe.

I got home from work last night and had about ten minutes before I had to turn around and head back out. I rushed to do some things, went back out to my car to get going... and nothing. It would not start.

Now, my knowledge of cars is virtually zero. So my mental checklist went something like this: "Dead battery?" No, there's still clearly power because everything on the dashboard is lit up.

(Crickets.)

Step two. Call my brother, the auto mechanic. (I don't mean that figuratively. He is an auto mechanic.) I describe what's happening -- I'm hearing a clicking sound every few seconds when I try to start it, but nothing is happening. (And another data point -- two weeks ago, I had one occasion where it took three tries for my car to start; I had dismissed this from my mind because it had been fine since then.)

My brother's rough over-the-phone diagnosis is that it's either a bad ignition switch or a bad starter. He's betting on the former, as Hondas had a few years with notorious problems there. (Many even had an official recall on them.) But his dealership was already closed for the night, so he couldn't get the part I needed. I at least count myself lucky that the car decided not to start when I'd already made it home. Just 45 minutes earlier, and I'd have been looking for a tow truck from work and a ride.

But speaking of work, there's the matter of getting there the next day (today). Fortunately, I have a couple of friends that happen to have three vehicles between the two of them. (The third is a burly truck for burly truck purposes.) I called them up, and was most graciously offered a car to use to get me through.

Fast forward to tonight. My brother comes over, does a quick experiment that takes all of about 20 seconds, and concludes that nope, his phone diagnosis was wrong. It is indeed the starter, not the ignition switch. I apologize for giving him "faulty intelligence." We decide to call around to some auto part stores, as he is not likely to be able to get any better price on the replacement part than I could get elsewhere.

We remove the old starter (by "we," I mean "he" -- I'm trying to remain the protagonist in my own story here), and take it over to exchange out at the nearby store. Just to be sure, we ask the employee there to test the starter, and sure enough, he comes back with confirmation that it's completely useless. I buy the part ($200... ouch), and we head back to my place.

Just as my brother is about to start installing it, I get a phone call from the auto parts store. It's the same clerk, telling me that he just discovered his tester was somehow configured incorrectly. He's run a new test on my starter, and it came back "all green." And they won't take returns on electrical parts once installed, so if I want to return it and get my old starter back, I'd better do it now.

My brother is shaking his head. So I thank the clerk, hang up, and let my brother do his thing.

Moment of truth. I go to start the car.... Nothing. But wait... I may well have drained the battery (the old, getting to be rather corroded battery) trying to start it unsuccessfully all those times, so let's jump start it.

Success! But with an asterisk. The battery doesn't seem to want to hold a charge now. (See aforementioned age and corrodedness.) My brother suggests maybe I could just drive it around for a while to build up a charge, but concedes that a new battery might not be a bad idea either. The failing starter may well have taken the beleaguered battery down with it.

By this point, I feel I've taken up more than enough of my brother's time on a night when he had other plans. So I assure him that I can at least get to the store and have them put a battery in for me. I send him on his way, and drive out to get a car battery. I decide I don't want to return to the first store that sold me the starter, just because I want to avoid any potential embarrassment over the whole "we ignored you and put the part in anyway" issue. There's another car parts store only slightly farther from my house; I'll go there.

But there are only two employees at this other store, and the weirdest Thursday night rush of customers imaginable. So my request to have a car battery installed is politely shot down. But the clerk just as politely offers me tools to change the battery myself.

Recall back to the beginning of this story. I am not a car person. My stomach instantly knotted up. But, I reassured myself, I have changed a car battery before. This task is something I should be able to manage. So I accepted the tools, changed out the battery, and went to start the car.

Nothing. Even worse results than anything yet in this saga. The lights were on all over the dashboard, but not a damn thing was happening. So I double, triple checked. Then sheepishly called my brother. If I can get another jump start from the store, can I please come over for a second consultation? He graciously agrees.

Of course, that improbable rush of customers meant that I waited nearly 20 minutes to get that jump start. But at long last, the employee comes out, tests the new battery to confirm it is indeed working, and then goes to give me the jump start.

Nothing.

Okay. What. The. Hell?

Now that things have cleared out a bit at the store, the employee has a moment, so he takes a look at my battery installing handiwork. But he's scratching his head. It should be working.

I'm dangerously close to "basket case" territory now. I'm embarrassed to have to call my brother again at this point. I'm sorry to have to further wreck his evening by asking him to come out to the store to take a look, and likely give me a ride back home. I'm starting to get a bit mad too -- not at him, but at the fact that I've spent $300 already, and am no closer to having a functioning car.

But I shove all that into a compartment and make the call, begging my brother to come. And he does. He takes a look...

And instantly sees the problem. Apparently, I can't install a car battery. Because in addition to the expected connections I'd seen before, there are two other loose, smaller connections to be made -- the connectors for the car alarm. These tiny cables were both were attached to the main negative battery connector, so I had squeezed them both in against the negative terminal.

But oh-no-no-no-no. One of them was meant to go the positive terminal. And with the car alarm compromised, and automatic kill function was preventing my car from starting. I'm embarrassed to have made the mistake, upset at the store employee for not having seen the mistake, and hoping that my brother is right -- that this one simple change is going to solve all my problems. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...

Success! Once and for all! I started the car, shut it off, and started it again. No problems! Then I apologized profusely to my brother for dragging him into my web of car woes. (Seriously, if you go into a line of work where your family members will likely call on you for your expertise, you deserve a medal.)

So now I have one more step in my extremely limited car repair checklist: "Is the battery really connected properly? Car alarm too?" And more importantly, I have a working car again. And though none of them are regular readers of my blog, and are therefore unlikely to read this, I must give thanks one more time to my brother for the repair help, and my friends for the loaner car.

Car trouble sucks. Friends and family rock.