I've Seen the Enemy, and Its Name is Toro

I was off yesterday. I spent 4 of those free hours at the VIMs house mowing his lawn. I wanted to surprise him and do something nice for him since he always takes care of me. Actually, only about 2.5 of those hours were spent mowing. The other 1.5 was spent trying to restart the mower after it ran out of gas.

During that hour and a half, I:

• pulled the starter cord 2427 times.
  
• pushed the primer button 6748 times.
  
• fretted that I was priming too much.
  
• fretted that I wasn't priming enough.
  
• panicked when I saw another gas can after I filled the mower (what if that wasn't gas that I just put in there???)
  
• checked the spark plug wire 764 times.
  
• became convinced that it wasn't gas I put in there, but some other gassy-smelling liquid which was creeping into and destroying the engine.
  
• pulled the mower back to the garage three times to clean it underneath.
  
• smoked 2 cigarettes
  
• tried to decide if I should leave a message on the VIMs cell phone, asking him to call me ASAP, or just leave a note for him to find when he got home.
  
• tried to figure out how much a new mower would cost and if I had that amount in my savings account.
  
• looked around for a siphon to get the not-gas out of the tank.
  
• pulled the starter cord a few more times.
  
• primed and fretted. Primed and fretted. Primed and fretted.
  
• cried because all I wanted to do was do something nice, and look what a mess I made of everying.
  
  I was a mess. Standing in the middle of the yard, covered in sweat and grass, bugs flying around me, crying because I was a grass cutting failure. Why oh why oh why??? Thank God he has trees around the edge of his yard - his neighbors would have thought I was nuts.
  
  Then, for no reason at all, I pulled the cord, and the mower started. Maybe it just needed to cool down. Maybe I just needed to cool down.