My Life as Jim Halpert: Day 3

One of the things I most like about Jim Halpert, is his lack of many prototypical “manly” characteristics.  Granted, he is good at basketball and as the picture to the left shows, can grow a great deal of chest hair. Those are traditionally manly qualities which I currently lack, but hope to one day possess.

But, as a whole, Jim lacks many alpha male characteristics. He’s shy. Awkward at times. Has troubles telling girls how they really feel about him.* He isn’t particularly suave or James Bond-esque. He’s just there. He is shockingly similar to me.

(*Full disclosure: I can’t really say I have trouble telling girls how I feel about them. One time a couple years ago I told a girl I loved her within a few weeks of meeting her. True story.)

Perhaps it was fitting that on Day 3 of my Jim Halpert experience, I suffered through a truly Jim event.

I have driven a car relatively frequently for a number of years now. Until today, I had never suffered any sort of vehicular related difficulties. I never ran out of gas. Never got a flat tire. Never struck a pedestrian. I’m clean. However, early this morning, Peter “Jim” Halpert attempted to use his car. I stuck my key in the ignition (that’s what she said) as I have done thousands of times since turning sixteen. I turned the key. Nothing happened. Nada. The car didn’t struggle to turn over. There was no eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh. The radio turned on. The heat started blasting, but the motor wasn’t running. I was dumbfounded. I tried again. And again. And again. I tried probably twenty times, hoping against hope the next time would be different than the last. Still nothing.

I was stumped. People around me were beginning to notice my struggles and I embarrass very easily. I’m sure this is a trait shared by Jim as evident by how uncomfortable he became when he accidentally walked in on the daycare supervisor in the bathroom. (Season 6, Episode 14) I, again, summoned my inner Jim and wondered how he would handle the situation. Knowing how little Jim cares for embarrassing confrontations, I knew Jim would run and hide.  So, wanting to avoid the public shaming which would undoubtedly come my way if people realized I couldn’t even start my own car, I hopped out of the car and nervously walked away. I attempted to play it off as if I had accomplished my goal. I suppose I hoped the people who saw me sitting in a car talking to myself assumed I had walked to my car with the intention of sitting in it alone for 7 minutes.

After the people who had been in the general vicinity of my car had dissipated, I returned. Again, I tried the key to no avail. What I did next made very little sense. I got out of the car and unhooked the latch and lifted the hood of my car up. I stared at the machinery. On the surface, this seems like a fairly logical thing to do. But, like Jim Halpert, I know absolutely nothing about cars. I was never one of those guys who got really into car shows or Mustang GT whatevers or Maserati quatrothings. I like books. And yet, I continued to star at the inner workings of my car.  I might as well have gotten out of my car and proceeded to stare at the passenger side door, because I would have learned just as much doing that as I did staring at the engine.

But ultimately, it looked like I knew what I was doing and avoided embarassment. And that, Jim Halpert would tell you, is what counts.


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