My car won't start. Fuck.
So, of course I put the hood up to discover that the battery cable is loose. I wiggle it, try to start it. I move it, each time trying to start my car.
Finally, I start calling people because I know I'm going to need a ride to work.
In the midst of all this, I'm sitting in my car, seriously pissed.
I hear someone say "Hey, are you okay?" I look up and see cute college boy. With blue eyes. Yum. My favorite.
He immediately walks to my car, starts jiggling things, and tells me to try to start it. I try, no dice.
We (I say we, but it was really "he") determine that it's my battery cable. He tells me that I just need to tighten my battery cable, and says "If I had my tools, I'd do it for you." I thank him, he tells me shyly "I have a Pontiac, too". I smile, offer him a papertowel to wipe my car grease off his hands, and he walks away to class, not before smiling at me over his shoulder.
I try to start it a few more times, then finally one of my co-workers offers to come get me.
I no longer feel like I want to set my car on fire. I keep smiling, thinking how cute it was for college boy to try helping me out (in a backpack, no less). I love guys like that. (Plus, he didn't ask me that stupid/standard guy question. "did you run out of gas?")
Who would've known that my car not starting would make my day? ;)