Semper Fi
Thank God it's Monday. 'Cause my Friday? Not so good.
My parents' 30th anniversary was yesterday, and I told them I'd stay at their house and take care of the dogs for them to get away for the weekend.
So Friday afternoon at about 2:15, I left my apartment to drive the 2 hours to their house. Then I hit traffic on I-85 (which happens all of the time, so I wasn't surprised).
Then I hit traffic on I-20 about an hour later because of construction. Traffic was completely stopped. (And this was after I drank a HUGE glass of water in the car, mind you.)
I was repeatedly thankful for this little guy.
The temperature was 101 degrees outside. Notice, too, that I was going 0 mph. ZERO.
About thirty minutes and one mile later, the temperature had escalated, as had the contents of my bladder. At this point, I was searching for a place to pull off and run into the woods. There was no shoulder, no exits in sight, and we were completely stopped. (Again, note: ZERO mph.)
Finally! An exit! So it was in the middle of nowhere. So, it was only a truckstop. I had to use the bathroom. (I have never been in such intense pain from a full bladder. Never.) And I had to get off of I-20. I knew the back roads from this exit. We were in business.
Except after I stopped at Dairy Queen to use the bathroom, my car wouldn't start. Wouldn't even turn over. Crap, I thought. Good thing I have jumper cables.
So I got the most well-kempt looking man driving a mini-van to jump me off. He told me that his son was about my age and irresponsible, too. His son always left his lights on inside his car and his battery was always going dead. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my molars would crumble. I hadn't left my lights on. I hadn't been irresponsible. My car was just dead.
We got the car started and I was on my way. I was about 45 minutes away from my parents' house at this point.
I pulled out of the parking lot of the Dairy Queen, pulled to a stop at the stop sign, and accelerated to pull out onto the highway. And, instead, rolled into the highway. My car was dead again. (At this point, I was convinced my alternator had gone out and I was screwed.) Meanwhile, I couldn't get my car into park, I couldn't take the key out, and I couldn't take my foot off the brake or it would've rolled further into the road. I was in the highway. With truckers yelling at me and telling me to get off the road. (By the way, my hazard lights wouldn't work either.)
I literally sat there, with my foot on the brake, for about 5 minutes trying to figure out what to do. I called my dad, and he called my mom. (She works around this area.) She was on her way.
A guy about my age in overalls (with no shirt underneath), a goatee, and a big wad of dip in his lip pulled up beside me and asked me what the problem was. After I told him, he reached in my car, with me sitting in the driver's seat and tried to put my car in park ('cause, you know, I hadn't tried that...). (Might I just add that his hair armpit was dangerously close to my face.) I told him that I had someone on the way to come pick me up. He shrugged, got in his pick-up truck, and left.
I pulled up the emergency brake (Why didn't I think of that earlier?) and got out. I sat on my trunk and waved people around me. Most of these people were irrate truckers that yelled at me and made obscene hand gestures. Damn, I'm sorry I'm inconveniencing you, you redneck trucker. But I REALLY want to sit right here, in the middle of Highway 100 in rural Georgia and take in the nice day. Especially since it's 103 degrees and I'm wearing jeans. (One guy really creeped me out. I don't know exactly what he said to me because his truck was so loud, but it was of the sexual harrassment variety.)
An ex-Marine that had been eating a Blizzard in Dairy Queen with his wife noticed that I had been sitting there for quite a while. He came out and tried to push my car by himself, up a hill, and back into the parking lot. The automatic steering on my car wasn't working of course, so it was really hard to steer. Another man came up and helped him. I was finally out of the road and in the (relative) safety of the truckstop parking lot. The ex-Marine and his wife sat beside me in his truck until my mom got there.
This is my car in the parking lot. Dead. Completely dead.
We called our insurance company and they sent us a tow-truck. The tow-truck got there about the same time as my dad.
Sad picture, huh?
We took the car to my uncle's house about 30 minutes away. He found out that it was just my battery and not the alternator. (I guess the battery was so dead, it wouldn't even hold a charge.) We left the car there overnight, and drove to my parents' house.
We finally got home, and all was right with the world when I saw these guys:
Unfortunately, my parents' Saturday plans were bashed since we had to work on my car. They argued that they enjoyed having me around, that if I had to have car trouble, they were glad it was close to them so they could help me, etc. Happy 30th, folks.
We enjoyed the day Sunday, though. Rode jetskis and the boat, went swimming in the lake and were just kind of lazy.
As I headed back to Atlanta last night, I had a new battery in my car, and an optimisitic attitude. Especially because there was no traffic and the sky was beautiful. (I was a little paranoid when I got on the interstate, though.)
Obviously, I made it back safe and sound.
But I learned some things this weekend.
-- 1 out of every 7 people are nice and helpful. The other 6 are pretty mean and selfish. (Sure, there are variables to this. But for every person that stopped to ask if I needed help, there were about 6 that gave me the bird.)
-- Under stress, I react with anger. The first thing I did when my car wouldn't start the first time was hit the steering wheel. Sure, it's probably to cover up my fear. Or to keep me from freaking out. But I was mad.
-- I'm generally pretty cool under pressure. (Despite the last statement.) People were yelling at me and I was just rolling my eyes and waving them around me.
-- A familiar face (especially those of your parents) is really good to see when you're under stress.
-- Always carry jumper cables.
-- I like ex-Marines.
-- Good ol' boys aren't necessarily that nice. Or good.
-- I have good parents and good aunts and uncles.
-- Monarch of the Glen isn't that great.
-- I'm a lot more reserved on a jetski than I used to be.
-- I am definitely of Scotch-Irish descent and, therefore, sunburn easily.
-- At least scary situations lead to interesting blog posts.
My parents' 30th anniversary was yesterday, and I told them I'd stay at their house and take care of the dogs for them to get away for the weekend.
So Friday afternoon at about 2:15, I left my apartment to drive the 2 hours to their house. Then I hit traffic on I-85 (which happens all of the time, so I wasn't surprised).
Then I hit traffic on I-20 about an hour later because of construction. Traffic was completely stopped. (And this was after I drank a HUGE glass of water in the car, mind you.)
I was repeatedly thankful for this little guy.
The temperature was 101 degrees outside. Notice, too, that I was going 0 mph. ZERO.
About thirty minutes and one mile later, the temperature had escalated, as had the contents of my bladder. At this point, I was searching for a place to pull off and run into the woods. There was no shoulder, no exits in sight, and we were completely stopped. (Again, note: ZERO mph.)
Finally! An exit! So it was in the middle of nowhere. So, it was only a truckstop. I had to use the bathroom. (I have never been in such intense pain from a full bladder. Never.) And I had to get off of I-20. I knew the back roads from this exit. We were in business.
Except after I stopped at Dairy Queen to use the bathroom, my car wouldn't start. Wouldn't even turn over. Crap, I thought. Good thing I have jumper cables.
So I got the most well-kempt looking man driving a mini-van to jump me off. He told me that his son was about my age and irresponsible, too. His son always left his lights on inside his car and his battery was always going dead. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my molars would crumble. I hadn't left my lights on. I hadn't been irresponsible. My car was just dead.
We got the car started and I was on my way. I was about 45 minutes away from my parents' house at this point.
I pulled out of the parking lot of the Dairy Queen, pulled to a stop at the stop sign, and accelerated to pull out onto the highway. And, instead, rolled into the highway. My car was dead again. (At this point, I was convinced my alternator had gone out and I was screwed.) Meanwhile, I couldn't get my car into park, I couldn't take the key out, and I couldn't take my foot off the brake or it would've rolled further into the road. I was in the highway. With truckers yelling at me and telling me to get off the road. (By the way, my hazard lights wouldn't work either.)
I literally sat there, with my foot on the brake, for about 5 minutes trying to figure out what to do. I called my dad, and he called my mom. (She works around this area.) She was on her way.
A guy about my age in overalls (with no shirt underneath), a goatee, and a big wad of dip in his lip pulled up beside me and asked me what the problem was. After I told him, he reached in my car, with me sitting in the driver's seat and tried to put my car in park ('cause, you know, I hadn't tried that...). (Might I just add that his hair armpit was dangerously close to my face.) I told him that I had someone on the way to come pick me up. He shrugged, got in his pick-up truck, and left.
I pulled up the emergency brake (Why didn't I think of that earlier?) and got out. I sat on my trunk and waved people around me. Most of these people were irrate truckers that yelled at me and made obscene hand gestures. Damn, I'm sorry I'm inconveniencing you, you redneck trucker. But I REALLY want to sit right here, in the middle of Highway 100 in rural Georgia and take in the nice day. Especially since it's 103 degrees and I'm wearing jeans. (One guy really creeped me out. I don't know exactly what he said to me because his truck was so loud, but it was of the sexual harrassment variety.)
An ex-Marine that had been eating a Blizzard in Dairy Queen with his wife noticed that I had been sitting there for quite a while. He came out and tried to push my car by himself, up a hill, and back into the parking lot. The automatic steering on my car wasn't working of course, so it was really hard to steer. Another man came up and helped him. I was finally out of the road and in the (relative) safety of the truckstop parking lot. The ex-Marine and his wife sat beside me in his truck until my mom got there.
This is my car in the parking lot. Dead. Completely dead.
We called our insurance company and they sent us a tow-truck. The tow-truck got there about the same time as my dad.
Sad picture, huh?
We took the car to my uncle's house about 30 minutes away. He found out that it was just my battery and not the alternator. (I guess the battery was so dead, it wouldn't even hold a charge.) We left the car there overnight, and drove to my parents' house.
We finally got home, and all was right with the world when I saw these guys:
Tug,
Jax,
and a random butterfly. (?)
Unfortunately, my parents' Saturday plans were bashed since we had to work on my car. They argued that they enjoyed having me around, that if I had to have car trouble, they were glad it was close to them so they could help me, etc. Happy 30th, folks.
We enjoyed the day Sunday, though. Rode jetskis and the boat, went swimming in the lake and were just kind of lazy.
As I headed back to Atlanta last night, I had a new battery in my car, and an optimisitic attitude. Especially because there was no traffic and the sky was beautiful. (I was a little paranoid when I got on the interstate, though.)
Obviously, I made it back safe and sound.
But I learned some things this weekend.
-- 1 out of every 7 people are nice and helpful. The other 6 are pretty mean and selfish. (Sure, there are variables to this. But for every person that stopped to ask if I needed help, there were about 6 that gave me the bird.)
-- Under stress, I react with anger. The first thing I did when my car wouldn't start the first time was hit the steering wheel. Sure, it's probably to cover up my fear. Or to keep me from freaking out. But I was mad.
-- I'm generally pretty cool under pressure. (Despite the last statement.) People were yelling at me and I was just rolling my eyes and waving them around me.
-- A familiar face (especially those of your parents) is really good to see when you're under stress.
-- Always carry jumper cables.
-- I like ex-Marines.
-- Good ol' boys aren't necessarily that nice. Or good.
-- I have good parents and good aunts and uncles.
-- Monarch of the Glen isn't that great.
-- I'm a lot more reserved on a jetski than I used to be.
-- I am definitely of Scotch-Irish descent and, therefore, sunburn easily.
-- At least scary situations lead to interesting blog posts.
posted by Lauren | 4:16 PM
5 Comments:
HA HA! This is the best post you've written in a long time, I think. It was such a funny story (now, anyway).
Glad you're okay!
That sounds like a horrible experience. At least you were trying to do your best; your parents must have appreciated the effort you put into it. Sometimes it's just nice to know that people care enough to try.
I had the same problem with anger when I was learning to drive. I guess I should've learned on an automatic. I haven't driven in a while but I'd imagine things haven't changed much. I actually found that angry music helped rid me of my anger. Don't know if it would be the same with you.
Beautiful butterfly photo.
My father loves "Monarch of the Glen," but only the first few seasons; I suspect it might be more of a "guy" show. You might like "Hamish MacBeth" more.
Addenda:
I miss Dairy Queen desperately. I'd never been to one until I was in Panama, and now I'm hooked on Misty Floats.
I had something else to say...It's gone now.
"1 out of every 7 people are nice and helpful" -- Funny. I learned that lesson when I had to walk home from high school after cheerleading practice when my mom forgot to pick me up. Every once in a while, some stranger would offer to take me home. I declined, not necessarily out of fear, rather so that when I got home I could further complain to my mom that I had to walk all the way home! That happened on more than one occasion throughout my k-12 academic life.
Very, very good post. I can see you're a creative writer. As for the experience, SCARY!! I'm glad you're safe and all. Isn't it weird how people can't just be helpful? What was so hard to see about you needing help there? You're a really young woman out on the highway with a broken-down car! How much brains does it take to figure out that's worth getting over "being inconvenienced?" Crazy world!!
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