My Christmastime "Adventure"

The Friday before Christmas, I woke up about thirty minutes early. I wanted time to get everything down to my car because that was the day I was headed to my parents' house for the weekend before Christmas. I got ready for work, packed up my car, and headed off to work, in my car, which I think I've only done three or four times in my 27 months working here.

See, the governator, in his infinite wisdom, had given us all some informal time off, four hours paid where we don't have to work, for the holiday. Since there's a problem with the headlights, I wanted to leave early and these extra hours were perfect. And leaving from work would get me moving twenty minutes earlier! Perfect.

I got to work and poked around. I didn't do much actual work because I didn't have any and SMSN wasn't here to be all enforcer-like, so I could play silly games and read crap. I shut down my computer five minutes before noon, pulled my sweatshirt on, and read until I could leave. When all the hands pointed up, I sped out of here. I paid for my parking, got in my car, pulled out the leftover pizza I brought for lunch and headed out of town.

Traffic wasn't bad through town. On the highway, people were going slower than they needed to, but they were close to the speed limit and I had myPod playing songs I like and know, so I could sing along. I drove and drove and got to the really narrow part of the highway and traffic became a cross between crawling and stopping. I think I spent forty minutes crawling and stopping before I saw the messy accident that caused it. (Didn't see any people, just smashed cars and glass and the CHP guys.) Even after that the traffic wasn't smooth because farther down some CHP guys had set up a detour for the people who wanted to drive to the west. I was about an hour behind my normal schedule by this time.

After that, it was smoothing sailing for about 3000 feet when the freeway started and things got pokey. Traffic didn't stop, but it was really slow and pretty tight. I kept my car to the nearly all the way right lane because my exit was only about two miles away.

Traffic though that town was pretty good. We moved at nearly the speed limit and I knew that once I got out of town speed would pick up; after all, it was only two in the afternoon.

I was right. After I got through town I hit the gas and finally, after two hours of driving, got my car to 55 MPH. That's when the car started shaking, well bouncing, really fast and I heard a "whump whump whump" sound that went along with the bounces. Stuff in the passenger seat started rattling. I took my foot off the gas and as the car slowed, the bouncing stopped and the sound stopped. I figured I would just cruise at fifty and take the rest of the trip slow and be a bit more late to my parents' house and while I was there I could talk to my dad about the problem and we could work out whether I needed to take it to someone to get it fixed.

I cruised along for a few miles when the car started steering funny and was trying to pull me into the other lane. My snow driving experience kicked in and my foot came off the gas and I tried to hold the car steady so I wouldn't go into the other lane or steer too hard off the road. It took me a few seconds before I realized that I had blown a tire.

I pulled off the road as far as I could because there's not too much of a shoulder on that highway and I wanted to feel fairly safe while changing the driver’s side front tire.

Out I climbed into the biting wind and walked to the back of the car to free the jack and the doughnut. With those in hand, I walked back to the front of the car. I set the doughnut down and looked for the right place to set up the jack. The gravel on the side of the road hurt my knees as I twisted the handle to get the car up enough so I could get the tire off. The tread on the tire had peeled away leaving it bald and thin. When I got the tire off, I found the tread wrapped around the axel. I sighed and carried the tire and the tread and tossed them into the car; I didn't want to be one of those assholes who leave their messes on the side of the road. I got the doughnut up and on and cranked the car back down to the ground.

The jack safely stowed in the back of the car, I climbed back into my seat and started the car up. It had only taken me about 40 minutes to do everything. Not bad for a guy who hates working on cars. I put it in gear, waited for a break in the traffic, and hit the gas. The rear tires spun, but the car didn't move. I tried again. Nothing. I tried going in reverse. Lots of noise, but no moving. I tried going forward one more time and when nothing happened I set the parking break, turned off the car, and sighed.

About a mile behind me was a railroad museum. I head toward it hoping to find a phone, crossing the street when the shoulder on my side got way too small. I kept thinking that at least it wasn't raining, and then I'd check the sky to make sure there weren't any clouds above me that could open up and pour. The sky stayed clear, thank you.

The sign at the museum said that it was only opened on Saturday and Sunday. Fortunately, the gate was open and there was a car parked in front of the building. I walked over and knocked on the door. A guy came and I told him what was going on. He let me come in. At first he wanted me to dial 911, but I only needed a tow truck to yank me out. He offered me his cell phone and dug out a phone book for me to use. I called for a tow, then went to the road to wait.

The clock in the truck showed four as I climbed into the cab and buckled in. I explained to the driver what the problem was and off we went. He sang along with the twangy country music that was on the radio and a minute or two later I pointed out my car. He slowed down, looked at the ground and decided that he couldn't get my car out, safely, unless CHP was there to slow or stop traffic. At the nearest turn around point, he radioed in and told them what he needed. We got back on the road and headed for the museum because that was the only place he could turn around to get going in the direction my car was pointed. At that turn around, he radioed in again to ask about when the CHP would come. The guy on the radio said no one was coming, that they couldn't help me, and there was no charge to me. It was 4:15.

I climbed out of the cab, thanking the guy for coming out and giving me fifteen minutes of warmth, and headed back toward my car and the nearest emergency phone.

At the phone, I picked it up and pushed the button to call directly to CHP. I didn't want to do this on my way down because I knew I needed a tow truck and I didn't want to bother anyone that I didn't have to. Now I had to bother them. Some woman picked up and I explained that I needed a tow and where I was and that I did understand that I'd have to pay for the tow and I gave her my information and I told her that I was going to wait at my car.

The walk back was colder. The sun was lower and there was more wind. At one point, a truck pulled off the road in front of me. I wondered if the driver was going to offer me a ride. Out of the window came an empty plastic bottle, then a McDonald's bag, then more bottles, an ash tray, and another bottle. When I got up to the window, I was offered a ride. I turned him down. Not only was my car just over the little hill, but I really didn't want to ride with someone who used the highway as his trash can. Sometimes, beggars can be choosers, they just have to know when it's okay to make that choice.

The rest of the walk was as uneventful as walking along a busy highway could be.

I climbed into my car, which was chilly, but not windy, and waited.

I was very good about not turning the key every few minutes to check the time. I only checked every fifteen minutes.

At 6:15, with no tow truck or CHP in sight, I grabbed the flashlight out of the glove compartment and set out to the other, closer, emergency phone. I figured that two hours was enough time to wait for help and not get it. In the dark, the wind had died, so it felt warmer at six than it had at four.

I got to the phone, which was on the other side of the highway, and got through to a guy. I immediately told him that I had called, from a different phone, two hours earlier. He sounded concerned that no one had come for me and took all the same information that the woman had earlier. Before we hung up, I asked him to connect me with my parents so I could tell them I was okay and that I wouldn't be there when I originally thought I would and that I'd stay overnight wherever I ended up. We hung up and I headed back to my car.

I wasn't sure where the CHP would be coming from, though. Would the cruiser stop at the phone looking for me, or at my car? It probably depended on which direction it came from. So, I parked myself on a little hill, way off the shoulder, where I could watch my car and the phone. I stood there singing.

I don't know how long I waited.

Eventually there were lights behind my car. CHP had arrived. I hurried, but didn't run, over to the cruiser. The guy rolled down the passenger window and a rush of warmth hit my face. I explained to him my problem. He got out and looked at my car. He told me to get in and he'd look to see if he could pull me out. After a couple of minutes, he walked up to my window, which I had already rolled down, and told me that I needed a tow truck. In my brain I said, "No shit you fuck-head. That's why I've been trying to get one for the past three hours." In the real world I said, "Okay." He said he'd call one from his car and told me to stay where I was and asked me if I knew that I'd be paying for the tow. I said I knew.

More waiting.

When the tow truck got there, the CHP headed off so he could turn around and slow traffic for the yanking. Once again, I explained the problem. The truck driver quoted me a price and asked if it was okay, and I said yes, I just wanted my car out so I could get moving.

He hooked his cable up to my car and had me start the car so I could steer as he pulled. Steering felt weird, like it wasn't doing any good. When the driver stopped, he came to my window and told me to let off the breaks, I said they were off and the car was in neutral. He gave the car another yank then stopped again, came to the window and said my tire was locked and I'd need to be towed. I got out and saw the trench my front tire had dug.

I gritted my teeth so I wouldn't start cursing and said it was okay. I climbed into the cab of his truck and fumed while he hoisted my car up onto its back tires.

Lucky for me, the driver also has a repair shop and he told me, as he pulled into a motel, that he'd call the next morning and let me know what was going on. I said okay and snagged my bag from my car.

I got my room and dropped off my stuff. It was after eight.

Across the street was McDonald's, so that's where I bought my dinner, which I took back to my room with me. Before eating, I called my parents to let them know what was going on and to ask them to come and get me the next day if the car couldn't be fixed that day. They said okay, so I ate and showered and watched the singing numbers in White Christmas and eventually fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up when a woman pounded on my door. She wanted to make sure I didn't need anything, she said, but really, she was the cleaning lady and wanted to do all the upstairs rooms first. I called the repair shop and spoke with the guy. He hadn't looked at the car yet. A bit later, he called me back and told me that my brake line had broken and was leaking fluid. He said that all the places he knew of to get me the part were closed and wouldn't open until after Christmas.

I called my parents and told them. My brother, and his girlfriend, had offered to come and get me. He'd leave at ten, I was told. I knew it took about two hours to do the travel, but really screwed up my math and assumed he'd get there at 1 PM, which was good because after I checked out and went to McDonald's to sit and wait, I wasn't worried when they wasn't there at 12:45. They got there a little after one.

We headed over to the repair shop. No one was there. I called the guy and he said he'd send his son, so I could get my house key and an estimate. I pulled out my spare car key and my brother and his girlfriend and I unloaded my crap into their rental car. Eventually the guy's son got there (All I could think when I saw him was that this is how a douche must look in human form.) and I got my keys and the estimate.

And we were off.

We got to my parents' house around 4:00 PM. I was only 24 hours late getting there.