Oh, Poor Turk's Car

The night started like any other night. I went over to Angela's for dinner and to make coconut cuppy-cakes. Even with the failed "killer biscuits" and the flour and kosher salt everywhere, the night was still pretty good. There were no major catastrophes and I didn't end up at home screwing around on the computer all night. But you may have noticed my last post was at 3 AM. Seriously, when was the last time you knew me to have stayed up till 3 AM? Besides while reading Harry Potter I mean. Right, never. Most nights I am snoring (if I do in fact snore) by 11:30 or 12. So what was I doing?

Not at Angela's making/eating cupcakes the whole time.

Not that I wouldn't have preferred there or to be bored at home.

No.

I was stuck.

Stuck on the side of the road, less than a mile from home.

With a flat tire that needed replacing before I could actually GO home.



That's right. I ended up on parked in the Mr. Car Wash parking lot for more than THREE hours last night because I ran into the curb (oops.. I knew I no longer went that way for a reason) and my tire blew.

I called Ford Roadside Assistance (FRA) and asked to have someone come change my tire (hmmm... maybe I should learn how to do this one day.) they told me it would be an hour before someone could come help me. I actually thought that was pretty fast, so I was happy.

Angela (who had been in front of me going to get gas)returned, with Slurpee, and we hunkered down listening to music and playing on our cell phones (she was playing tetris, I was playing bejeweled). Then we got the call... It would be more like an hour and a half or more before someone could come and help me.

This is when we started thinking... hmmm, who could get here faster?

PETE!

Oh, wait, hmmm... Abi is in Montana on a Dude Ranch.

We don't actually know Pete's last name.

I don't even have Christina's number to see if she knows Pete's number.

And no one is answering the phone at home.

So, we accepted our fate and we waited for a long, long time.

Around 3 AM the FRA guy finally showed up. He was nothing that I imagined he would be. Did he have a tow truck? No.
Did he have a broken down Geo Tracker with the back window out and evidence of duct tape repair methods? Yes. Did he inspire confidence in his ability to change the tire? Only in the way that he had two jacks in his car.

Regardless, he did change my tire and I was able to get home. So I thank him for that, but not much else. It was only later when I went to get a new tire I found out he tried to kill me.

Maybe I should have tipped him.

Apparently, as the nice gentleman at NTB told me, the FRA guy had only completely tightened 3 of the 5 lug nuts on the spare. Awesome. I am totally calling Geico Roadside Assistance next time. Or maybe I will even shell out some money for AAA.



I figured I deserved this.