man v. machine

My car hates me. That doesn't bother me that much. What really bothers me is that my car hates me, and therefore, decides to make me look like a moron. Not just severely inconvenience me, but make me look like I have the IQ of a mentally deficient lichen.

As I'm pulling into a restaurant parking spot, my car stalls. I restart it, no problem. It runs fine for about 30 seconds, so I'm thinking "Hey, its all good, must be a fluke." So then I, being the oblivious individual that I am, go and consume my food with much relish (not the condiment. I hate pickles.). I return to my car, turn the key and...
AND...
Nothing. The U.S. - Canadian border had more going on than my car. So I pop the hood, inspect the engine, and after a bit I notice the fuse for the alternator is blown. "Eh, oh well, things happen," the mentally deficient lichen says to himself. I call AAA, and have a tow truck sent. After an hour it gets there...I didn't mind the wait, I had a friend with me. So "Irish Mike's Towing" arrives.... The first thing the master of towing / Guinness Draught asks me is "Did you try to jump it?" At which point I tell him no. He seemed to regard me as a moron, even after I told him a)the battery is not even a week old b)the car cranked right up before c)the lights weren't dim at all. Undeterred by a logical response, he says "pop the hood, I'll get my flashlight." At what point did towtruck drivers decide they were mechanics? All I want out of this guy is to TOW MY FREAKING CAR. It was not meant to be. He spots some corrosion on my posts, and says that's my problem. He refuses to even acknowledge the fact my alternator fuse is blown. Its corrosion on the posts. Who knew corrosion on the posts can cause a car to simply stop working. Right. So then Mr. Fix-It says "go ahead and try to start it" at which point I, being the self-vindicating smug bastard that I am, think to myself "fine, now he'll see that it won't start and he'll just TOW MY DAMN CAR." WRONG!
I turn the key and the car starts right up. No problem (and no, he didn't scrape off the malevolent, cancer causing, ozone-hole creating, national deficit-inducing corrosion).
Irish Mike the Content then hops in his truck and zooms off, as his work is done.
So I drive my car to an autoshop and had a friend pick me up, where it sits, waiting to be fixed.

Thank you, Talon, for that wonderful lesson in humility.

I hope you are successfully repaired.

So that I can sell you for more money.

Oh yeah, and in case you're saying "Why don't you just replace the fuse?"...something had to cause the fuse to blow.