The plan for Sunday was simple.
I was going to go with the man friend to take his dad's 1970 Mustang out for a drive around the Peninsula. His dad is out of town for a while, and the car needs to be driven, right?
It had been a while since the car was started, so it took a bit to get it going.
Once we did, we saw it was low on gas. We headed for the closest station to gas up and wash the windows. All is fine until we try to leave the gas station.
Car. Won't. Start.
Good thing we are at a service station, right?
Wrong. No mechanic on Sundays.
We call AAA and they send out a dude in a maintenance truck even though we ask for a tow. He tests the battery and bangs around under the hood looking at the starter. Still nothing.
After about 15 minutes of this, he calls for a tow. So on top of the 30 minutes we already waited and the 15 minutes of dicking around with the car, we have to wait another 30 minutes for the tow truck.
As we are waiting, some kids set up a lemonade and cookie stand on the corner. We amuse ourselves by walking over and getting a cool drink and some snickerdoodles.
And while we sat there, another old Mustang pulled up to the next pump. It was a beauty. And it was mocking us as it drove in and then so easily drove away again while our classic ride sat with it's hood exposed like an open wound.
Finally the tow truck arrived and we had him take us back to the dad's house.
Then we took mf's car and had our drive around PV anyway. It was a great day for it.
But it is amazing that even though it was kind of a pain in the ass, the whole time I was still having fun.