Too Young To Be Grumpy

Last night was our regular salsa night. Our teacher is going off on a 2 month holiday in a couple of weeks and before she goes she's throwing a little salsa party, so for this party she's trying to get us all doing a new routine. It turns out this new routine isn't a new routine made of old moves, but completely new moves. We must have learnt about 5 new moves last night, and it was all pretty quick fire. It was hot and humid in the room, but it was nevertheless good fun.

Quite often, after our salsa lessons, we go off to a pub called The Angel in Ferndown to cool down with some of the other guys from the class. And tonight was no exception. We chatted until it was throwing out time and we all dispersed into the carpark to head home. However, the fears I had as we left our salsa class were confirmed when my car wouldn't start.

It's been acting a little strange over the last week - the revometer stopped working and the charging light has been very subtley flickering at me, many a time forcing me to consider my own sanity at whether it was actually flickering or just a trick of the light. But as we left salsa the car grumbled a bit when it started.

"That's a bit odd", I said to Daisy. "I hope it will start after the pub."

Of course, it wouldn't. Completely dead. It was 11:40. I had no choice but to call my Dad, whose bedtime is never further into the night than 10pm. Like the selfless guy he is, he of course came out and collected us and my car would stay the night in the pub carpark.

Early this morning we collected some jump leads and headed back to the carpark where the car dutifully started first time while connected by the umbilical cord to my wife's car. I drove it to my parents, so tomorrow I guess I'll be helping my overworked (yet retired) Dad to find out what's wrong. Probably a knackered alternator.