Tags: cars, transportation
All right people, I know you are sick of hearing about my car and transportation woes. Turst me I am sick of talking about it. I want to be free of all car woe material! Being that my car has let me down three times in the past seven days, (I refuse to count up the amount of times in the past three months because it would be too depressing) you would think that there was not possibly one more thing that could go wrong. I was with you in that line of thinking. I mean, really, hadn’t I paid my dues literally and figuratively?
Today the universe decided to throw another “let’s mess with her-she’s fun to make cry” get-together.
I had a flat tire. Not a low tire or a fixable leak. No, this was the kind of flat tire that resembled the slashing work of a seriously jilted ex-girlfriend Carrie Underwood style.
Of course I am nowhere near a source of air to pump the thing. I have to drive the car at least a mile down the road until I find a gas station. I know what you are thinking, “Big deal, just change the stupid tire.”
Obviously, if you said that you don’t know me at all. It is not a matter of will. I will do anything to save a few bucks. It is a matter of skill and materials people. Both of which I had none.
As I drove 15mph down the road the only thing louder than the sound of the Ker-thump Ker-thump that my rim was making as it bent with each rotation was the know-it-all sound of my own voice saying, “You must find a new job which either A) keeps you from relying on this piece of crap car B) pays you well enough to buy a new car and/or C) sufficiently compensate you for the hundreds of dollars in gas you use each month.
At that exact moment as I pull up to the gas station, gas has now gone up to $3.20 a gallon. Excellent.
Is the universe telling me something? I am starting to think it is.
I get out the Fix-U-Flat from my last, yet not so long ago, flat tire and proceed to fill the thing up. Next comes the air. No air would hold. None. Nada. Zilch. There goes .75 cents I will never see again. Yes, I am bitter about even that.
There was no hope. No hope at all.
Apparently I was in need of another rescue call. I begin calling. Daddy first because he tells me to from now on so he can call his Triple A and avoid another crazy towing bill. So, I did. “Where are you?” he asks. It took all I could muster within not to reply “At the intersection of Hades and Murphy’s Law, my own personal hell, my very own purgatory.” But, I didn’t and he came to my rescue. All the while I can’t believe how inept I feel being a 20 something grown woman in need of her Daddy. Shouldn’t his responsibility end at some point? But I digress.
The Triple A man comes and changes the tire to my donut and then off to the repair shop we go with the defunct tire.
Bad news ensues. Of course. Because of the exact location that the hole is the patch will not hold for longer than a few days. I must get a new tire or else continue to air it up every single day.
Allright, who do I make the check out to? Again.
But, they don’t have the correct size tire. Of course they don’t.They will have to order one. I have to drive “cautiously” for the next few days. That will be no different from the way I have been driving my clunky piece of crap car. I have had enough. It is time to be done with this car. Now to finding out a way to go about it.
So, long story short people I am in still in transportation limbo and at a loss as to the next step I need to take to get me out of car Hades.
Enough universe, move on.