The first time that I realized this was during our New Hampshire trip. The second night there, he accidentally glued his fingers together with Crazy Glue. We spent three hours figuring out how the hell to get them disconnected. The solution, believe it or not, was nail polish remover. But listening him freak out about gluing them together, then driving into a drug store in Nashua, geting up the nerve to ask the pharmacist, then figuring out what to buy, and then sitting with him while his fingers soaked in a bowl full of polish remover, flicking off little pieces of glue...well, there's a short story in there, and someday, I'm going to tell it.
Last night we had another such adventure. We spent the day helping his mom go through boxes in her house, because she's finally moving in to her new place soon. But on the way home, Corb realized that his headlights weren't giving off much light. We pulled over to the side of the road, and I got out, and reported that he had a pa-diddle--his left light had burned out.
Of course, we had to go get a light right away. But first, we did take care of one other goal--getting my loan from my bud Pauline so I can pay the rent. However, getting there was a joy. "I can't see. This is horrible. I'm going to get pulled over by the cops. Ted, this isn't funny. Don't make jokes!"
Well, we managed to make it to Auto Zone in one piece, and after figuring out which bulb to buy, we moved to the parking lot to try and get the new bulb installed. We moved toward the brightest light in the parking lot that we could find, and then got out and lifted up the hood. It was freezing out, and I hadn't dressed warmly enough. And we stood there, staring at the headlights, watching the motor turn round and round.
After a minute, Corb looked at me. "Now what do we do?"
"Um," I said, at a loss. "Do you have an owners manual?"
Of course, he did. We moved back into the car, to look up 'headlight replacement.' The blast of hot air coming from his heater came as a welcome relief. But the comfort was short lived, and soon enough, we were back outside, fiddling around under the hood.
"It's still too dark," Corb complained, so we went inside Auto Zone to borrow a flashlight. And then, returned to our task. "So what does it say?"
My eyes squinted to see in the dim light. "It says, Step One. Remove the cover to the headlight's interior."
Corb fiddled around inside the car for a bit. "Done," he said, and handed me the black cover.
"Step two. Disengage the plug." I moved the booklet over to him. "See? It looks like that."
He nodded and moved back to fiddling inside the car. "Done," he said, after a bit.
"Step Three. Snap off the coil that attaches the bulb to the three ring interior."
Corb stared at me. "Ummm...what?"
I continued, monotone. "Step Three. Snap off the coil that attaches the bulb to--"
"I heard you, but what does that mean?"
Now, keep in mind, it's always easier to be the reader than to actually do the freaking work. I stood there, at a loss as to what to say. How the hell would I know how to snap of the coil? "I don't know, honey," I said, weakly. "I've got a picture here!" I waved that in his face. "And an instruction." I assumed by booming monotone voice. "Step Three. Snap of the coil that--"
"Ted, if you say that one more time I'm seriously going to beat you!" I opened my mouth, tempted to speak, but then decided that it was safer to close it. "What do they mean, 'snap off'? Weird..."
So we stood there, trying to snap off that damn coil for about ten minutes. Finally, Corb said, "Let me try it on the right side. It might be easier, because there's no battery in the way." He moved over to the other side, and I dutifully followed, with the flashlight. "Oh, this is easy!" he said, in a matter of seconds. "I get how to do it now..."
There was only one problem. Snapping it off was easy. Snapping it back on turned out to be a pain in the butt.
We must have stood there in that parking lot for another half an hour, trying to figure out how to put the coil back on. It was getting progressively colder. And all the time, I'm trying not to laugh, thinking how we started out with one bulb out, and now, here we were, only making the situation worse, and now had a car with two non-functioning bulbs. A ba-diddle?
Finally, we were saved by two leather clad lesbians, who zoomed in on their motorcycle, pushed us into the car, and fixed the problem in seconds flat. Then, of course, they took us over their knee and beat the living shit out of us, only one of them took a fancy to Corb, and he was forced to pinch her nose to escape her grasp of love. In the struggle that followed, we were able to make a break for it and drive off, with two functioning lights, back to our apartment.
Okay, that last paragraph really didn't happen. But it did take a while to make things right, and Corb's fingers were pretty numb for at least a half an hour later.
And that's how I spent my Saturday night. Experiencing Lucy first-hand. Again.