Jess_Likes_Them_Bigger.Org
The other night while driving around looking for a 24-hour Walgreens (Don't ask) at 12:30 AM...in the rain (Really it's not worth asking about) my windshield wiper exploded. It was all very dramatic but suffice it to say the thing ripped itself apart due to what I can only guess was some sort of extreme self-hatred. Anyway, my windshield wiper died horribly. RIP, dear wiper. You served me well.
Normally it wouldn't matter, I mean it's not like a windshield wiper is the thing you really worry about exploding. I worry about my brain exploding. The planet imploding. My eyeballs popping out of my head. By tires suddenly falling off my car. Getting caught in the middle of a high-speed chase (Oh wait, been there done that) and having some crazy gun-wielding lunatic shoot hundreds of rounds into my car before he hits the gas tank and I die in a huge ball of flame...But not alot of worrying about my windshield wipers.
So I was completely unprepared when I was on a very large main street with a surprising amount of traffic, in the middle of a stormy night with no driver's side wiper.
Never having actually changed such a thing on my car before, I fiddled with it in the rain for a few minutes before I realized the part that had actually fallen off was never, ever supposed to fall off. Huh. Okay. Luckily my friendly Chris was willing to come to the rescue. But by the time she arrived to the lot I'd parked in, I was fully convinced I was a genius. I had fixed the thing. In the dark. No glue or duct tape needed. Hazah!
The only problem being the next day as I wandered Target looking for a new wiper just in case, I relied completely on Boyfriend for my car's measurements and bought the wrong size wiper. Now, instead of having a 24" wiper on my driver's side I have a comically small 18" mini-wiper that I'm convinced will be the death of me. If it rains I'll be scrunched as far forward as I can be while still peering over the top of my steering wheel, in true old crazy broad fashion.
So tonight, while on break again (Yes, I'm working another Friday) I plan to hunt down a new wiper approximately the correct size. We'll see though. I laughed evilly at Boyfriend as I realized for the first time in his life he came up short. He he he.
Now I know how all those chicks feel when they turn to their guy and say, "Is it in?" That's the feeling I get every time I look at my disappointing stub of a wiper. Hopefully this will be the only time in my life I'll ever truly be disappointed by lack of size. (Cause it really does matter. Stop lying you "the-glass-is-half-full" people.)
On another note, a memorial fund has been set up for the replacement of said wiper. Please send your donations to:
Jess_Likes_Them_Bigger.Org
Thank you.
Normally it wouldn't matter, I mean it's not like a windshield wiper is the thing you really worry about exploding. I worry about my brain exploding. The planet imploding. My eyeballs popping out of my head. By tires suddenly falling off my car. Getting caught in the middle of a high-speed chase (Oh wait, been there done that) and having some crazy gun-wielding lunatic shoot hundreds of rounds into my car before he hits the gas tank and I die in a huge ball of flame...But not alot of worrying about my windshield wipers.
So I was completely unprepared when I was on a very large main street with a surprising amount of traffic, in the middle of a stormy night with no driver's side wiper.
Never having actually changed such a thing on my car before, I fiddled with it in the rain for a few minutes before I realized the part that had actually fallen off was never, ever supposed to fall off. Huh. Okay. Luckily my friendly Chris was willing to come to the rescue. But by the time she arrived to the lot I'd parked in, I was fully convinced I was a genius. I had fixed the thing. In the dark. No glue or duct tape needed. Hazah!
The only problem being the next day as I wandered Target looking for a new wiper just in case, I relied completely on Boyfriend for my car's measurements and bought the wrong size wiper. Now, instead of having a 24" wiper on my driver's side I have a comically small 18" mini-wiper that I'm convinced will be the death of me. If it rains I'll be scrunched as far forward as I can be while still peering over the top of my steering wheel, in true old crazy broad fashion.
So tonight, while on break again (Yes, I'm working another Friday) I plan to hunt down a new wiper approximately the correct size. We'll see though. I laughed evilly at Boyfriend as I realized for the first time in his life he came up short. He he he.
Now I know how all those chicks feel when they turn to their guy and say, "Is it in?" That's the feeling I get every time I look at my disappointing stub of a wiper. Hopefully this will be the only time in my life I'll ever truly be disappointed by lack of size. (Cause it really does matter. Stop lying you "the-glass-is-half-full" people.)
On another note, a memorial fund has been set up for the replacement of said wiper. Please send your donations to:
Jess_Likes_Them_Bigger.Org
Thank you.
Labels: The Boyfriend (duh Duh DUH)
This entry was posted
on 18.8.06 at 8:47 PM.
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7:36 PMIt's not the length, it's the girth. You should spring for one of those ultra cool, extra wide ones. Look! Chrome!
http://www.partsamerica.com/ProductDetail.aspx?categorycode=3449&mfrcode=ALP&mfrpartnumber=76162
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