I have a long story about my 2005 Mini Cooper 5-Speed Convertible, but today I am here to tell you that this car, adorable though she is, is a money pit.
After some significant work late last year, she was running like a dream. I hadn’t been to the mechanic in over a year, so we were good, despite the 220,000+ miles on the car.
This week, a sensor light came on. Mechanic fixed it, albeit in a four-hour ordeal while my daughter sat at home on perhaps the last day I will get to see her in quite a while now… But it wasn’t horrifically expensive, so good.
Well, not so good. Last night the alternator decided to stop working, while I was at my other daughter’s first solo art show in western Massachusetts.
The venue was 83 miles from my house. I know this, because after a long wait, I used my premier membership to AAA for a tow home with Rico, the tow guy.
I feel incredibly lucky that this all happened while I was inside and comfortable. In fact, it was during one of my proudest moments as a mama. My girl, who has been through a lot, had finally gotten her work on a wall and was celebrating it with her friends at a place she loves. I met her art professor/department chair at her college, as well as colleagues from the now-closed restaurant where she worked. Other of her friends I have known for some time, as well as the owners of Looky Here, the venue where my girl has worked and grown so much in the last year, were also there. How amazing is this? She even sold a large piece last night.
Of course I got myself there, and there was no high water and only a little hell to get there and back, and of course it was worth it.
I learned a lot in the last two days, largely in the company of mechanics and tow guys.
Rico had many stories, and I am always game for a good talker. He grew up in a gritty town–the grittiest, in my opinion– in western Massachusetts, in what he told me was a tight-knit apartment complex. He knew the streets, saw the graft and then the violence in the area, and was right in the middle of it. He told many stories of his own children, what made him tough, what made them tough. Similar stories overheard at my mechanic, the type of men I knew very well growing up and rarely see now.
The trip on the tow truck was long and late, and sharing the ride with a loquacious driver was just the distraction I needed. Contemplating the car repair (I was guessing a new alternator) just as I have been searching for work for several months was not what I wanted or needed after the special event I had just attended.
Sometimes, in this crazy world where it is so easy to stay snuggled in our own worldview, it is good to be thrust out into nights like this. I dreamed when I was younger of being away from people who thought and talked like Rico, even though he was kind, helpful, and generous. He had his ideas about the world, which may not be what I think, but here he was, telling me what he thought, but not judging what I said back to him.
I got home close to midnight, and Rico said he had a cold beer waiting for him when he got home and could turn off his pager. It was a good night for him, and despite the undoubtedly expensive repair and inconvenience of the tow, it was a good night for me, too. I still have AAA, for one thing, so at least I didn’t have to pay for the tow. And somehow, we’ll get through this, Mini and me.
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