My friend Anita and I set out on a long-awaited girl’s getaway last Friday morning. Our destination was the sun, sand and surf in beautiful St. Augustine Beach, Florida. By ten a.m. we were on the road for a six and a half hour drive or so we thought. Sometimes things don’t quite work out the way you think they will.
The first two hours went perfectly along our scenic route until we stopped at Wendy’s in the little town of Sanderson, Georgia. After ordering at the drive-through window, we pulled into a shady spot in the parking lot to eat and talk. We did not have time to waste inside as we were in a hurry to see the ocean before nightfall.
After a few bites, we decided to eat and drive. There was just one problem…Anita’s window would not roll down, mine would not roll up and we no longer had a working stereo. What the heck?! Well, having experienced this same problem once before, I knew exactly what the heck…a blown fuse.
Not knowing where we were as far as stores were concerned, I leaned out my open window and asked a passerby walking a Pit-bull where the nearest auto parts store might be found. He said it was just down the road, so I called my husband and off we went to Auto Zone. Hubby knew the exact fuse number and location and told me the helpful folks at Auto Zone would change it for me. He was wrong.
I went inside, told the clerk the problem, asked her to speak to hubby and heard her say “we no longer change fuses.” Dang! Seems they had problems in the past where what I can only assume is now a ex-employee pulled the wrong fuse in someone’s car causing more damage than he or she was trying to repair. The nice young lady offered to go with me outside and direct me best she could as I removed and replaced the blown fuse. Hubby told me there was a “box on the driver’s side labeled fuses” and it was easy to get to. He was wrong. AGAIN!
After quite a bit of struggle and a few choice words I managed to find the fuse box. In order to reach it, however, I was forced to contort my body into a position it has never been in. Hubby directed me via speakerphone on the correct location and number of the fuse needing replacing and how to take the tiny tweezer-looking doohickey and remove the fuse. Once I found everything I easily pulled and replaced that fuse like a professional mechanic. Anita even took my picture to prove it. See…
We filled the remainder of our drive with girl-talk, laughter and nine extra fuses. By seven p.m. we had the wind in our hair, our toes in the sand and the magnificent Atlantic Ocean before us. A blown fuse and a little extra time were certainly worth the view.
During our girl’s getaway, we met some interesting folks, caused an uproar at the Fountain of Youth, conducted/videotaped a social experiment on the beach and laughed until we cried. More about our girl’s-getaway adventure coming up in the following days. I hope you’ll come back to read all about it.
Until next time, ya’ll…