no thanks, i got it.

so eventually i got sick of sitting there in the fucking car wanting to kill every runner that ran by saying "more cowbell."

i turned the car around and ended up at a grocery store. fuck it. i went in and did some grocery shopping and then zigzagged my way back to my house. unloaded the groceries and then drove to work to check the internet to make sure the world was still turning on it's axis. which, you'll be happy to hear, it was.

so i get all uplifted from the interweb and then head to pick up the motorcycle battery. on the way i call my sponser to tell her i really do have to talk to her to fill her in on some stuff so i'll stop by after i get the battery.

on the way to her house i see i have a voice mail message. it's my friend sam. an old skinhead buddy with whom i've recently been reaquainted. he wants to take the dogs to the park. it is a beautiful day. i call back.

"hey dude. i'm stopping by my friend's house and then i'm going to throw this battery on my bike to see if it works. it is not my experience that the first thing i buy for my motorcycle fixes it, but in the odd event that she starts right up with a new battery, i'll give you a call and we can take the dogs for a run."

i talk with my sponser for about an hour. i love her. i tell her everything that's been going on in my life. she doesn't judge. she's supportive. she loves me.

so i head home, hook the battery up and no dice. some cranking but no start. fuck. i douse the carbs with starter spray. turns once and then nothing. fuck. guess it's the plugs.

i call the motorcycle shop suggested by my friend seth.

"hey i have a question to ask but you can't laugh at me."

"uuh, ok..."

"what size socket wrench do i need for the plugs on my gsxr?"

"5/8's"

"awesome, thanks."

so off i head to the parts store to get a socket wrench. i call sam.

"hey. i'm headed to the parts store to get gumout and a socket wrench for the plugs."

"i have a socket wrench"

um, yeah. i'm not very good at accepting help from men anyway. but i have an inkling that sam is interested in me for more than friendship, so i turn down the help.

"no, it's ok, i need to get one anyway. i'll talk to you later."

when i get home from the auto parts store, i'm not too happy to see that i bought a socket wrench with a 1/2" drive on it. my breaker bar has a 1/4" drive. short version? i bought the wrong fucking socket.

after i fight off the urge to throw the wrong socket through my living room window, i call sam.

"ya, i bought a socket with a 1/2" drive."

"ok, gimme a few minutes to put some clothes on and i'll be right over."

it's now nearing 4pm.