I've been sitting outside a fabric store next to a supermarket, waiting for Maria, for about 15 minutes and this woman has been trying to start her car the whple time.
At the moment, she seems to be giving her battery a rest while she smokes a cigarette.
She may get it started, but it's my guess there's a wrecker in her future.
Now she's putting a couple of plastic bags of groceries into the trunk and returning to the driver's seat.
Five more cranks of the starter and a middle-aged guy comes over to offer help.
She cranks it repeatedly for him to no avail.
He has her pop the hood.
She, he and the guy's daughter peer into the engine compartment.
He pokes around.
She gets in, turns the key and it momentarily catches, blows blue smoke from the exhaust and dies.
He attaches jumper cables from his white pickup truck.
His wife offers encouragement to the woman.
She cranks the starter repeatedly and long. Still nothing.
She gets out and they examine the engine again.
Now the guy gets in and cranks the starter long and hard, then gets out again to stare at the engine, hands on hips.
The sky has cleared and it's getting hot - close to 90.
Other shoppers come and go, their cars firing up easily as if to mock her.
Another guy stops to consult and I wonder why nobody has called for a wrecker yet. Surely there has to be a cell phone among them.
I'm sitting on a bench in front of the supermarket.
She cranks. It starts with a blue cloud and one of the guys shouts, "Well, you'll know what to do now."
Must have been something obvious.
She drives away.
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