I was driving up Burnside; Tim and I were going to Trader Joe’s. I was in the left lane going uphill when my car DIED, and no one would let me over. So we stopped in the middle of the road and I couldn’t get it started again. I turned on my flashers and kept cranking the engine. Ass holes started honking. After a few minutes the lights on my dash suddenly turned on and the car started again, so I made an illegal left turn next to the Volvo dealership and cruised around the block looking for somewhere to park. When I got back to the Burnside intersection it died again.
As I was cursing my luck and furiously shaking my steering wheel, a man walked up and said "hey I am a Volvo mechanic, pop your hood." So he looked under my hood, then got in and cruised it to the other side of the Volvo dealer so we could park it. He pointed out that the lights on my dash were not lighting and said it appeared to be a problem with the wiring to the alternator. He said he would look at it in the morning and have it fixed by the next afternoon. I gave him the key and he gave me his card, and Tim and I walked to trader Joes. When I was almost done with my grocery shopping, I ran into someone from my high school, which is quite strange because I don’t see people that I went to high school with very often. We talked for a few minutes, then I left and as I was walking back to my place. I walked past where my car had been and it was GONE. I walked home and set down my groceries, and called the guy. He said that the problem was the fuse box wiring and he was fixing it right then, it would be ready in an hour, and it would be 45 bucks. An hour and 20 minutes later I had my car back and running as usual.
It still has weird electrical issues though.