02.15.2002 - You Know The Story

Today seemed like it was going well for the most part. I accomplished all my goals at work, my boss gave me madd propz during his conference call with regional management and I finally received good news about the stability of my job. I left my office after getting thanks and an invitation to go wine tasting with my boss, thinking about what I'd do with my weekend. Since I felt more comfortable about my job and the government had just skrillified my checking account via my tax refunds, I planned to get some new tires for my car, a birthday present for The Moms and perhaps some much needed shoes.

I should know by now that it's just not a good idea for me to make plans.

After about five minutes on the freeway, I silently gave thanks both because I don't have to deal with Friday commute traffic and because I've gone over a week without having to take my car into the shop. It wasn't long after that my power steering cut out, all my warning lights came on and my car started overheating.

I have officially had enough of this shit.

I jumped out of my car, popped the hood and notices the alternator belt which I had just replaced eight days ago was completely gone and the battery was oozing. Since I couldn't exactly fashion a belt out of the weeds and beer bottles that decorated the highway, I cursed, kicked the dirt and jogged up to the nearest call box.

Even though the call box was only about a half mile away, three people, including one Scott Stapp lookalike, stopped to offer me a ride. I'm shocked by the kindness. When I was stranded on the side of I-5 in May, I sat on the side of the road for two hours with absolutely nobody stopping to help. It's nice to see people reaching out a hand, even if one of of them may or may not have been the lead vocalists of one of my least favorite bands of all time.

Still, thinking about how I would pay for these seemingly endless repairs and what will happen if my car troubles loosen my already tenuous hold on my job, the ensuing helpless feeling prompted me to actually consider throwing myself into the oncoming traffic. I couldn't tell you why, but I've had the occasional suicidal thought lately, and frankly, it's scaring the living shit out of me. It's not something that I'd really consider doing, but the fact that the thoughts are popping into my head leaves reason for concern.

If you're laughing right now, consider yourself an official asshole.

After sitting on hold for about twenty minutes with CHP emergency services, the operator came on and told me a tow truck would meet me shortly. I expected the word "shortly" to mean roughly long enough to bring a child to term, but it surprisingly only took about a half an hour for the truck to pull in front of my car.

While the gentleman hooked my car up to his truck, I had to decide whether I wanted to get the car towed back to the shop that did the faulty work and hopefully get the part replaced for free or if I wanted to take it to a shop in Davis since it was closer. Because my insurance hassled me last time because I didn't get my car towed to the nearest shop and told me they wouldn't cover me if I had it towed more than ten miles, I decided to just get it towed to Davis. The costs of the repairs and the towing probably would have offset each other, so it didn't really matter.

Just when it looked like we were all set up to go, we noticed that my rear passenger side tire was pretty flat. Because this towing company is apparently based out of Ghettopia, the driver didn't have an air compressor to refill it enough to get it to the station. As a result, he had to detach the car and call his daughter to bring out a flatbed tow truck. I felt genuinely bad for the guy, because his daughter yelled at him for approximately thirty minutes before hopping in the truck and coming out.

For the next forty-five minutes, I stood silent next to Roy, a dirt and hair covered gentlemen who very well could have walked out of the Country Bear Jamboree and into my heart and watched the sun set. We shared a moment.

After standing in the dark and cold for what now totaled two hours, the truck finally showed up. His daughter showed up with his granddaughter asleep on the seat. I felt horrible because not only did his daughter bitch at him like he was going to give her a hundred dollars and a glass of Kool-Aid if she made him cry, I had to interrupt a perfectly innocent little girl's nap. When we got into the truck, I apologized profusely and he seemed to appreciate it, offering to drop me off at my house after we dropped my car off at one of the shops reccomended to me by one of my column groupies.

As I filled out a late drop envelope and dropped my key into a particuarly shady looking slot, Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld called to see if I could take care of his bird while he spent the weekend at his house in Lake Tahoe. When I told him where I was, he offered to let me borrow his car for the weekend and said he'd be down to meet me in ten minutes.

Have I mentioned lately how much I love this kid?

Thankfully, the tow truck driver billed the towing directly to my insurance company. Usually I have to pay the driver and wait for reimbursement. This causes problems because I usually need that cash to pay for repairs. Shortly after I finished filling out the paperwork, Tons Of Fun went on his merry way and Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld picked me up. We went from the shop over to a mutual friend's place where he would be leaving for Tahoe shortly. After I visited for a few minutes and thanked Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld profusely, I got in the car and headed back to my place.

Arriving home three hours later than I expected would have been much worse were I not greeted by Alyssa and Jackson when I walked through the door. After wallowing in our own pity for a few minutes, Alyssa offered to buy me a tapioca drink to cheer me up. I agreed and we went downtown for some balls-in-your-drink goodness.

I would have felt a million times worse about my situation if I weren't almost instantly reminded of the quality of my friends. I seriously love you guys. Seriously.

After drinks, we came home and watched big fake breasts on TV for a while before we all decided to throw in the towel for the evening. I set my alarm for early o'clock so I could call the shop first thing in the morning and passed the hell out.

I'm glad that I have great friends, but I'd rather my car didn't have to die so often to remind me.

-- Jeffy