Two ducks, sitting in the night

I puttered over to my parents' house, where Lindi met me with a complete change of clothes and Mum provided dinner. Afterwards, we cleverly decided that L should follow me home, and lo! --another poop-out, right in the middle of NE 39th and Division. This time, instead of being stranded in a desolate parking lot, we huddled wedged between cars whizzing by us on all sides. Without even a flicker from my electrical system, I would have been a sitting black duck waiting to be clobbered had it not been for Lindi's flashers parked behind me. Unlike the dispatcher's earlier prediction of a long response time, this time a speedy response was promised due to our perilous situation. Not. While waiting, we had time for the police to come and push us into a gas station, and to compile lists of essential car safety equipment neither of us had, such as flares and flashlights and blinking triangles.

When the tow truck finally came, we sent it off to a mechanic in our own neighborhood recommended by Jessica. My old mechanic is too far away, which has always been a pain, and I've been in the process of localizing all my needs. As my father used to say when you asked for too many things at the dinner table, "Eat something near you."

We followed in Lindi's car, dropped the key into the shop's mail slot with an introductory note, and drove home to a late bed time. It would be several days before the mechanic had time to look at it.