Let me tell you a little story that may help you out if you have to pay for the part.
When I was in high school, my mother was in a live-in Christian read home. I lived with my grandparents and would go visit my mother whenever I could. The rehab home was in an old mansion and had guests houses so family could stay and visit for the whole weekend.
One weekend when I went to visit mom, the ladies (it was an all female place) were going out to hand out cookies to hookers and asked if I wanted to ride along.
I said yes, because I wanted to give cookies to hookers.
We all pack into the church van, and head to a place called Hunts Point in the Bronx. The ladies of the night were not what I'd imagined.
Anyway, the van broke down in the middle of the night in this sketchy hood and I was pretty scared. I was 15 years old and this was before cell phones. So someone in the van says, "Go get Howey Baby."
Howey Baby was the name of the pimp and in a few minutes a Cadillac parked on the other side of the street. The girl driving the van was the councillor, so she gets out and goes over to the pimps Cadillac.
We waited for what felt like ages. The Councillor comes back and tells us help is on the way. Howie Baby had a bag phone.
At this point we are freezing as its winter in New York.
A crack head shoes up and talks to the pimp, comes and tries to start the van, looks under the hood, then says "Be right back".
He runs around the corner. Yes runs. And we hear a car alarm go off. The crack head runs back with something in his hand and puts it under the hood.
He starts the van and we blast the heat on high and get the hell out of there.
Thanks Howie Baby.
