The plan today was for Sarah to take Oliver to Williamsburg to witness Linsey and her baby and for me to go to Richmond, maybe go to a car show, work on the Beetle, or sit around my mom's and do some school work. Either way, I was determined to take Dudley. So in my stupor, I got some things together, put some gas in Dudley, bought a quart of oil, and took off.
I made it to Zion's Crossroads, and a guy in a big red truck pulled up next to me at a stop light. He yelled that I had no brake lights and he looked reasonably pissed. I was actually at a pretty good location at this cross roads of 250 and James Madison Hwy (whatever the fuck that is). I pulled over and tried the few tricks I know...I checked the bulbs, put new bulbs in and nothing (I had gotten the brake pedal down using the rubber mallet and my book bag). I checked the fuses and even changed them. I played with the wires under the front trunk. I sanded down the contacts. Nothing nothing nothing nothing. In the midst of all of this activity, I had called AAA to get a tow which was a pain in the ass, particularly because my fucking phone was on the verge of dying the whole time. I also called Ken who after many rings finally picked up. I told him what was going on and asked him if he could fix the problem. He said "today" and I said ya to which he replied "bring her in."
So the tow truck finally did come. I buttoned Dudley up, got in the truck, and we drove in virtual silence from Zion's Crossroads (or was it Troy, VA) all the way to Fishersville. This was a little tense and awkward and my mind wandered a bit.
When I got there, Ken was with a friend (what?!) talking. I signed the papers and drove Dudley into the shop. Ken got under him for a minute, did something with a wire, this that, and it was done. Apparently it was the brake light switch. $42. Not too bad.
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