I get to work, and pull towards the back of the small, compact but serviceable lot. I stall the engine while trying to back up. I try to start the engine. The lights come on in the car, but I hear nothing from the engine itself.
"Feh, I must not have been pressing the clutch right."
Nope, that's not it.
"Something with the position of the steering wheel?"
Nope, still nothing from the engine. The starter isn't even turning over.
At this point I've starting to swear. A coworker notices that he can pull the positive lead right off my battery, and says that the battery is probably "Not getting purchase, and not recharging."
"Damn Battery" I mutter, glad of the emergency jump start kit I got at a Christmas gift. I tighten the problem lead and try to jump start the car.
No dice. Jump starting fails to get even a murmur form the engine.
Checking the fuses also yielded no love.
I ended up walking to the Sullivan across the street and handing them my key. I told them where the car was and am waiting for them to show up and take it.
In the mean time, most my coworkers have to park on the street to leave room for them to come in with a tow truck when they get off their asses and to move the sucker.
Yeah, because you know after paying my taxes, getting a bunny fixed and struggling with credit card debt, I desperately needed to spend money on engine work on a car with cosmetic damage I can't afford to repair.
I'm not QUITE to the point of putting it up for sale, but this is getting pathetic. I've had it less than a year. Part of my brain is saying "Sell it, get rid of it, get another Toyota." Another part is saying "You drove a convertible all blooming winter. Do you have any idea what a sap you'd be to sell it before driving it with the top off?"