I have a car fuse on my desk. It’s a small, blue piece of plastic with the number “15″ etched in white on the top and two flat, metal prongs poking out of the bottom. At least I assume that’s the correct orientation.
The fuse is from my car. Despite the “15″ on the top, I yanked it from the number 11 slot, so I have no choice but to assume the numbers are not directly related. The 11-slot of my vehicle’s fuse box controls the “convenience lamps”— that’s how you say “inside lights” in car manual jargon.
So the very convenient inside light lamps of my car no longer work, which is good because that’s what I wanted. Because they wouldn’t turn off. Because my fucking car door won’t open on the passenger side. And, I mean, it seriously won’t open. At least not to several brutal kicks from the interior and some hard, simultaneous yanks from the outside. Despite the door being so firmly stuck shut, however, the magic status-telling latch-thing thinks the door is firmly planted open, hence the light situation (and, hence, the fuse situation). I think the fuse also controls the turn signals or something semi-important.
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This entry was posted by Beau on Wednesday, February 13th, 2008, at 11:38 pm, and was filed in General.
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