Still, it wouldn't cooperate. Like any good mechanic, I started talking to myself. Then I started talking to the belt. Then I went nuts. I screamed and I cursed to the gods of automobile mechanics, who always seem to listen.
Mechanical gods are powerful beings.
They wait for these moments. Wait till you lose all composure and do something really stupid like kick your truck. Then, when you realize just how idiotic you've behaved, they give you the know-how to fix the problem. It works almost every time, but this wasn't one of them. This was the time that I threw my tools into the back of the truck and drove to the mechanic I had called earlier.