Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The day my car caught on fire

So I followed my regular morning routine.

Got up and thought about exercising as I shuffled into the kitchen to ingest my morning plasma – coffee. I got a lot of work done and was able to get dressed in record time as I wanted to make sure I wasn’t the reason my husband was late for work, again.

Today was a very rainy day – the heavens started leaking from about 5:00am and continued for most of the morning. I performed my wifely duties and took my husband to work (no that isn’t code for other wifely duties – I literally drove him to work).

Upon my return home, I happened to sit in the car for a few minutes while I finished a phone call. Absent-mindedly looking through the windshield at the rain beating down on the car hood, I noticed what I thought was smoke emanating from under the hood. I quickly ended my conversation and stepped out and touched the car. It wasn’t hot, so why was there smoke?

As I sat back in the car I tried to think of the best course of action. Should I call the Bermuda Fire and Rescue Service, my husband Mark, whom I had just deposited at work or my mechanic?

It was a tough decision but I went with the mechanic. I called his number, and luckily he answered. I explained that I thought the car might be on fire. He listened. As I was talking, I got a little nervous because I thought, if the car is going to explode, why am I still sitting here? I gathered my belongings; purse, camera bag; shoes; rain coat; box of tissues; coffee cup. As I reached for the grocery bags, I figured we could get new recycled bags, if need be. I dashed into the house and dropped everything on the floor because I now had to focus on what the mechanic was telling me.

“Ma’am. Open the hood.”

“Um, do you remember where the opening thing is? I can’t remember.”

“Look in the glove compartment.”

“Oh, I see it. Okay, it is open. What do I do next?”

“Do you see flames?”

“Um. No.”

“Ma’am, can you start the car for me.”


“Have you started the car?”


“Now, walk around to the front of the car. Do you see flames yet?”

“Um. No.”

“Ma’am. Your car is not on fire. You can close the hood.”

“Um. Thank you. I just wanted to be sure because I saw the smoke, or it could have been steam or condensation.”

“That’s fine, miss. Have a great day.”

“Thank you.”

So, technically, the car wasn’t on fire, but it could have been. I next called my husband and left him a message about the fire and what the mechanic said. Mark returned my call to make sure he understood the situation.

Another tough conversation:

“What did the mechanic say?”

“He said the car isn’t on fire.”

“You mentioned the fire department in your voicemail.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I thought I might have to call them but the car wasn’t on fire.”

“I see.”

“Well, bye then.”

“Bye, Aderonke.”

I am happy to report that no fire fighters were contacted at all during this emergency situation.

No comments: