Roadside Assistance

Poor, poor car. Old, old car. Sad Little Clancy wouldn’t start again and made none of the recognisable noises of illness in which I am expert, so I had to call the AA. Foxy AA lady was not working so I was homestarted by Brooding AA man. He was not so good at soothing my fevered brow and patting my arm in a non-patronising way as Foxy AA Lady is.

SLC: Click.
Me: You see? Just click-y. Not ruuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm-y.
BAAM: It’s the battery.
Me: The battery?
BAAM: The battery.

He ran through a number of diagnostic procedures and said I would need a new one as the old one was ‘buggered’. I would have to follow behind his van and be led to Lloyds in Edgware who would sell me a new battery (for £61.88) which he would then fit for me by the side of the busy busy with very fast buses four lane road. He plugged the car into something technical and oily and we started it.

SLC: Ruuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm.
BAAM (getting into van with air of misplaced unconcern): Whatever you do, don’t let it stop running.
Me out loud: Okay. Whatever I do, don’t let it stop running. (pause) Hang on, what happens if I stall it?
[Me in my head: At the fast and frenetic Brent Cross roundabout as I am wont to do regularly.]
BAAM: Don’t. Stall. It.
Me out loud: Don’t? Stall? It?
BAAM: Not unless you want me to jump you in three lanes of rush hour traffic.

I think he meant jump start.

My, there is a world of difference between Brooding AA Man and Foxy AA Lady.