Casey and I were driving home from Ted Dokkendorf's party one summer night in 2001. Casey's van was not working right because his alternator wasn't charging the battery. We made it to a gas station near the River Inn in Montecello and the lights went completely dim and we coasted to a stop in front of the door.
We went inside and politely asked the girl at the counter if there was a place we could run an extension cord from so we could turn on our battery charger. She kindly showed us a place and we plugged in.
Casey estimated it would take four hours of charging to get us home. We waited for about an hour and decided that waiting sucked. It was already 3 am.
So we went looking for a car battery laying around. None to be found. And we must have looked suspicious because the cop who passed the station every now and then started passing closer and closer. We waited for a while and then we saw a tractor out in a field.
I stood look-out while Casey, equipped with flashlight and tools, went out to get the tractor's battery. Just after he made it back, running all the way with the battery, the cop pulled in to fill up. He asked us if everything was ok, and we said, yes, we were just leaving.
The battery died about a half-block before Casey's house and we coasted to a stop right in the usual place. The battery that we "found" never held a charge after that and became another part of Casey's collection of useless batteries. Some say it was a ghost battery, but I'll let you decide.
