On my way home tonight, less than two miles from my office, a belt in the engine of my car decided to stop being a belt and morphed into tiny shreds of rubber and some other papery material that I couldn't identify. It came as quite a surprise because, really, we'd been together for a long time. I thought we'd bonded and gotten past these petty little games. I guess that's not how it works with cars.
Seriously though, I didn't cry. I know! I'm proud, too. You see, I've been sans a man for what, four years now? And in that time I haven't had any major crises, meaning my mettle had yet to be tested. I passed the test. The universe can kiss my ass; I'm a big girl now.
Granted, it took me a minute to focus and think about what I needed to do . . . how to get my car somewhere it could be fixed . . . how to get myself home from there . . . but I did it and arrangements have even been made for a ride to and from work. Snap.
It was a lot harder to accomplish, though, than you might think. One, I had to pee. Two, it was chilly and getting dark. Three, and most importantly, I had to call seven (7) tow companies before I found one that would answer the phone, wasn't too fucking lazy to get off the gaddam couch to come help me, and had the right equipment to tow a low-rider. (Insert your filthy jokes here, you perverted monkeys.)
I would be remiss in my karmic duty if I didn't sing the praises of the folks who met all of the above criteria and then some, McNamara's Towing. Everyone from the owner . . . to the gal on dispatch . . . to Dave, the lucky bastard who earned the privilege of safely carting me and my car across town . . . was professional and kind. They went out of their way to pick me up as fast as they could. Top notch organization. Use them.
Oh, and don't start about the roadside assistance. I know. I should have it. But you know what? Roadside assistance is for pussies. Real women like me can figure out what needs done and do it, all on our own and without crying. So there, nyah.
26 comments:
Er.... no. Get roadside assistance. Real men do.
YOU GO GIRL!!! (I can still say that...I'm black)
Did you at least pop the hood and pretend to diagnose the situation?
I am so very proud of you, you have no idea.
Next lesson: how to tie your own shoes.
(Seriously, though, sorry that happened. That sucks!)
I have always counted on my ability to hitch up my skirt and show a little leg, thereby enticing a man to help me out.
Good job! As a man who has seen two cars expire in busy traffic, this sort of situation is easily handled by pretty much nobody.
To ensure that you never need it again, you should program that number into your cell.
But start it with a "Z-" so that it's out of the way, and will hang out down there with our good friend the Dr.
I have roadside assistance! And I'll use them to change a tire, too.
Arjewtino: Hey, you're new! Welcome. I DID pop the hood and act like I knew what I was looking at. I even pushed the dang thing BY MYSELF, without power steering at that. I'm sure it was comical to the bastards driving past me and not stopping.
I know how to change a tire, and I have had so many car issues in my lifetime that I rarely even flinch when one konks out. That being said, last time I had a flat I called AAA.
Shut up- it was January and really cold, and I couldn't get the lug nuts off with the stupid equipment VW made, and...
Shut up.
Roadside assistance would've saved you from locating all those towing companies and making so many phone calls. That's why it's great to have - one call and they do the rest. I've used McNamara's in the past. They are awesome. Hope you don't have a big bill to fix your car.
I hope fixing the belt is easy and cheap. I would add "like you!" but I don't feel I know you well enough yet to add that.
So there, nyah.
I do believe that is how Bush ended his reelection speech.
Oh yeah, Dave at McNamara's? Great guy, great guy. Can't hold his drink, but a great guy.
someday I am going to need this girl power, permission to come back and drink here often.
gwen; WHOA! I'm practically PSYCHIC! I swear, the other day I was thinking about doing a post about what kind of cars I think everybody (read: bloggers) drives... naturally, I started thinking of a few different bloggers and what I might predict they drive. I swear on my new red patent leather stilettos that I was going to guess an eclipse for you! (I did already have a hint that it was a convertible from one of your other posts.)
oh, and I'm really sorry you had car trouble, honey! that sucks! :'(
hmmmm. Last time I got picked up by a tow truck guy, he asked me if I wanted to pay with cash....or road helmet.
I "heard" that road helmet is cheaper
Independent women kick serious butt! I'm reminded of that joke that includes a lawnmower and a battery operated device. Glad everything worked out okay for you.
I swear I left a comment here yesterday.Oh well.
-R-: We've reached that special place where you can call me slutty names. I don't mind.
Stacie: Permission granted.
Fancy: Don't leave us hanging like that, tell the joke already!
Zibbs: So what did you say yesterday? I have to know.
Good job! You are a big girl. Every time I have had to ride in the cab of a tow truck I am so surprised at how much porn is plastered all over! Did you have that experience? Feels good to be a big girl. Congrats!
Girl Power.
So can I call you when something happens to my car? Hello? Hello?
Why did God create men? Because dildos can't push lawn mowers. Sorry, it's a real manhater joke, but still funny.
I'm seriously impressed! Even though I'm married my husband seems to be able to sense when I most need him and doesn't answer the f-ing phone. You still need your Girl Powers.
Oh and I have road side assistance through my insurance company and it was really cheap to add to my policy. I like knowing it's there.
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