Cars are ridiculously stupid, and I hate them.
That was a complete disaster of an evening.
First I didn't leave enough time to get ready, because I am dim, dim, dim, and didn't notice the time until ten to seven (we were supposed to meet at the Angel Chef at half past, and it takes half an hour to get to Worcester). So I ran around like a mad thing, getting changed, drying my hair, etc., and was only ten minutes late leaving.
I set off, and every so often I noticed a strange clicking noise. I don't know if that's actually connected. Then I could sort of smell burning. I thought at the time it was 'cause I'd over revved or left the choke out or something. (Although I knew I hadn't, so why I thought that is a mystery. Wishful thinking, perhaps?)
I got about half way there, and strange squeaking noises started happening, and there was definite nasty car burning smell, so I swore lots and pulled over. Luckily, there was a garage about 200m away; if it had happened 2 minutes later I'd have been on a busy roundabout and then a main road with nowhere to stop.
Grr. Exactly the same sort of squeaking noises and burning smells happened last year, so I knew it was either brakes sticking or bearings going, and that there was no way I was driving the rest of the way there with no guarantee I'd make it, let alone get back home afterwards. I phoned Dad (slightly irritating actually, 'well it didn't happen to me'), and he said I'd better drive home, then I had to phone Claire and tell her I wasn't going to make it to the meal, but might manage the film.
I was whistled at by a nasty little lorry driver. To be fair, he did also ask if I was alright, but when I said 'yes, fine thanks' he followed it up with an annoying little smirk and an 'are you sure?' Sale phallocrate. It's not like I was really dressed up or anything, and I now realise my hair was a total mess too 'cause I was driving with the window open. Bugger. Then a white van beeped me pulling out of the garage because I am too cautious sometimes and don't take opportunities more experienced drivers would, but still, he didn't have to beep me. He's not the one with the breaking down bloody car. Then I drove home, sticking to 40 or below the whole way back, and gaining a crowd of followers who I probably annoyed no end.
Interestingly enough, nobody at the garage apart from the lorry driver asked if I was ok, though I'd obviously broken down, since I was wandering around on the phone, feeling the wheel hub temperature, and generally looking worried and upset. Maybe I look capable. Hee, that would be nice, and funny.
Bloody stupid car was absolutely fine on the way home, and I've decided I can't really go to even the film now, as I'm not sure how I'd get home (too stingy for a taxi - £30! No way - and don't really want to ask my parents to drive all that way at 11:30 or midnight), haven't had any tea, nor would have time to eat before the film.
So, my evening was ruined. I may get to see Physics friends next week, or I may not, as they're probably busy or leaving. I'm ridiculously worried they think I'm just making excuses and didn't want to go, even though I explained the car was breaking down.
I am fed up, and depressed, and may end up spending my evening doing maths questions instead. Ah well. There are worse things I could do.
Random recipe so I don't forget: cook pasta and sweetcorn, mix and add tomato sauce and cheese, cook a bit more. Eat.
ETA: I am hugely cheered up by this snippet loneraven wrote for me (first comment, scroll down a page or two). *g*
First I didn't leave enough time to get ready, because I am dim, dim, dim, and didn't notice the time until ten to seven (we were supposed to meet at the Angel Chef at half past, and it takes half an hour to get to Worcester). So I ran around like a mad thing, getting changed, drying my hair, etc., and was only ten minutes late leaving.
I set off, and every so often I noticed a strange clicking noise. I don't know if that's actually connected. Then I could sort of smell burning. I thought at the time it was 'cause I'd over revved or left the choke out or something. (Although I knew I hadn't, so why I thought that is a mystery. Wishful thinking, perhaps?)
I got about half way there, and strange squeaking noises started happening, and there was definite nasty car burning smell, so I swore lots and pulled over. Luckily, there was a garage about 200m away; if it had happened 2 minutes later I'd have been on a busy roundabout and then a main road with nowhere to stop.
Grr. Exactly the same sort of squeaking noises and burning smells happened last year, so I knew it was either brakes sticking or bearings going, and that there was no way I was driving the rest of the way there with no guarantee I'd make it, let alone get back home afterwards. I phoned Dad (slightly irritating actually, 'well it didn't happen to me'), and he said I'd better drive home, then I had to phone Claire and tell her I wasn't going to make it to the meal, but might manage the film.
I was whistled at by a nasty little lorry driver. To be fair, he did also ask if I was alright, but when I said 'yes, fine thanks' he followed it up with an annoying little smirk and an 'are you sure?' Sale phallocrate. It's not like I was really dressed up or anything, and I now realise my hair was a total mess too 'cause I was driving with the window open. Bugger. Then a white van beeped me pulling out of the garage because I am too cautious sometimes and don't take opportunities more experienced drivers would, but still, he didn't have to beep me. He's not the one with the breaking down bloody car. Then I drove home, sticking to 40 or below the whole way back, and gaining a crowd of followers who I probably annoyed no end.
Interestingly enough, nobody at the garage apart from the lorry driver asked if I was ok, though I'd obviously broken down, since I was wandering around on the phone, feeling the wheel hub temperature, and generally looking worried and upset. Maybe I look capable. Hee, that would be nice, and funny.
Bloody stupid car was absolutely fine on the way home, and I've decided I can't really go to even the film now, as I'm not sure how I'd get home (too stingy for a taxi - £30! No way - and don't really want to ask my parents to drive all that way at 11:30 or midnight), haven't had any tea, nor would have time to eat before the film.
So, my evening was ruined. I may get to see Physics friends next week, or I may not, as they're probably busy or leaving. I'm ridiculously worried they think I'm just making excuses and didn't want to go, even though I explained the car was breaking down.
I am fed up, and depressed, and may end up spending my evening doing maths questions instead. Ah well. There are worse things I could do.
Random recipe so I don't forget: cook pasta and sweetcorn, mix and add tomato sauce and cheese, cook a bit more. Eat.
ETA: I am hugely cheered up by this snippet loneraven wrote for me (first comment, scroll down a page or two). *g*