Alternators, guinea pigs, Easter candy, and Budd

OH BOY DO I HAVE A STORY FOR YOU. It is long but it so worth it.

This is definitely one of those “I better laugh because if I don’t I will cry scenarios”.

SO, Brittany and I are cruzing down Highway 70, chatting about boyfriends and speech-language pathology when we notice my car is buckin’ like an angry rodeo steer. It does this on and off for a few miles, but then it kinda stops so we figure it’ll be ok.
WRONG-OH! Suddenly my precious baby starts doing the jitter bug while I’m driving next to a semi and have 10 cars behind me. We QUICK! pull in front of this truck and off the road, at the exit ramp for Hermann New Florence (Exit 175….someone tries to negate this fact later in this story but it is TRUE, this IS a real place). I’m parked next to a sign that says “EMERGENCY PARKING ONLY”, quite appropriate I think, as my car shutters to a halt and promptly DIES FULL ON DIES THAT SUCKER IS GOING NOWHERE DON’T EVEN TRY THE POWER WINDOWS WON’T EVEN ROLL UP.


Ok. Don’t Panic. Call your mother. She is coming to get you. YAAAY for moms. Text your boyfriend and your best friend. YAAAAY they know you’re alive. Phone = DEAD. Sweet.

So Brittany and I are all, “If we stay in this car Monty will die of heat exhaustion because guinea pigs like cool dark places like the mountains of Peru, not hot sweltering places like the inside of my car”. We pack it up and head to McDonalds, about a 4 minute walk away. We park it there and the Mickie D’s employees are so kind as to plug my cell phone into their office. In the meantime I call Progressive’s Roadmotherfuckingside Assistance who are totally worthless and try to tell me that (A) Hermann doesn’t exist (B) Exit 175 isn’t a place (C) there are no mechanics or tow-trucks within 20 miles. This guy had an attitude problem. I told him nevermind I would figure it out myself.

Note to self: Cancel Progressive Roadside Assistance, Pay $20 a year for Triple A, thanks! – Self.

Anyway, since we realize that I’m going to be towed one way or another, we start taking turns walking back and forth from the car bringing in our crap. This is hilarious simply because I left Brittany alone, in McDonald’s, sitting with a guinea pig and two bags full of Easter candy.

Okay, so I get my laundry basket and my laptop bag and figure I will come back for the piggie cage and I tromp up this hill towards those golden arches, when I see an officer of the law rolling up next to my car.

So I QUICK! runrunrun down the hill and I’m standing on the side of a major highway holding a laundry basket staring at this cop, who acknowledges me but doesn’t address me. He’s chattin’ away on his thingermabob and then gives me the “come here ma’am” hand signal.

I romp on over to the man in blue, who chats with me and I tell him my whole sad story while I AM SWEATING BULLETS AND HOLDING A GOD DAMNED LAUNDRY BASKET FULL OF MY DELICATES. Finally he realizes and tells me to put my stuff in the car. Normally I would not get in this stranger’s car, but if you were as sweaty as I was you’d do it too. He then proceeds to ask me my demographics WHICH HE WRITES ON HIS HAND. And then he drives me back to McDonald’s where we find my mother and grandmother, who needless to say were shocked to see me climbing out of cop car holding my laundry. These three bond for awhile and I go inside to retrieve my partner in crime. By the time I’ve returned he is calling my grandma “Grandma” and she is saying we should invite him over for Sunday dinner! We know all about his life but we don’t know his name, which is a shame because he was so lovely and ridiculous and I plan to call New Florence PD to tell someone how friendly and magical he was. He helps us find a tow truck and a good mechanic to take it to (fuck you Progressive…there ARE  places in New Florence).

After we say so long to our new friend, we call up ol’ BUDD. He tows trucks. He tried to tow my mom’s Kia and we had to flag him down and yell “BUUUDDDD NOOO!! NO BUDD NO!! WRONG CAR BUDD!! WRONG CAAAR!” while flaying and waving our arms wildly. Budd does not have all of his teeth. Budd follows us down to my sad little heap of a vehicle and he is hookin’ ‘er up when he comes over to me and says:

Budd: “Your battery is so dead I can’t put it in neutral”

Me: “Umm. Ok?” (Dear Budd, In case you couldn’t tell, I know nothing about cars. Sincerely, Samantha)

Budd: “Should I leave it in park and drag it up there?”

Me: “Do you have a better plan?”

Budd: “Nope”

Me: “Okie dokie then”

Budd stares at me for a moment or two, and then walks away.

Brittany thinks Budd wants us to get out and push it. So did I. Thankfully this wasn’t in the cards for us.

Then Budd hops in his truck and drives away, so we follow for a minute but then Budd is moving slow, so we start to pass Budd, and Budd rolls down his window, but he doesn’t yell out anything, so Brittany just waves Bye-Bye to Budd and off we go into the sunset. He makes this hand motion that says to me “What the hell?” but I just figure its a man thing.

THINK I’M DONE? CUZ I’M NOT.

As it turns out, that hand motion means that Budd wanted us to follow him so I COULD PAY HIM FOR TOWING MY CAR. So Budd calls my Grandma and is like “WHAT THE FUCK YO?” (in so many words…) and I have to call to give him my credit card number.

This is especially amusing since BRITTANY WAAAVED GOODBYE TO HIM!! Budd is trying to say “no you dumb ho’z…you must pay me for services rendered!” and we’re just speeding on by, waving to him like he’s our best friend.

Anyway, I’m home now. I may need some help getting my car and my mother’s car exchanged later this week, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

While this seems like a bad thing or bad luck or bad karma; I can’t help but think somebody was watching out for me – because we met good people who could help us, I wasn’t alone, it didn’t rain, Monty lived through the sweltering heat, we got stuck in a safe place, and I got back to ol’ Kville safe and sound so I can continue my education.

trying to take everything with a grain of salt,

weathersby


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One Response

  1. There’s one thing I’m confident of, and that is: This story is even BETTER when told in person.

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