You know when I hit the road for the Big Apple this afternoon, I was feeling pretty good about life. Good enough that I was going to let a couple of minor irritations en route go by without comment.
Sorry, guys. At 5:23 pm my beloved RAV 4 came to a complete stop at 12th Avenue and 54th Street in Manhattan. Nothing worked. No emergency flashers, no windows, no radio, NOTHING. I had this problem once before about 14 months ago a the VA hospital in West Haven (another horror story). Any way, I got out of my car which was in the center lane and put up the hood to alert cars that I was in distress. While there I took a look at the battery and found that the problem was the same one I had at the VA last summer. One of the battery cables had just disintegrated so I was getting no juice from the battery. I called AAA and explained to them that I knew exactly what the problem was (I believe it was a $12 repair last time) so they would be sure to bring a cable with them and then I could be on my merry way.
So I sat and waited about 22 minutes for a tow truck which quite literally came from about 300 yards away (It wasn't called 54th St Auto for nothing). Before I recount the tale of my service from the tow truck, let me tell you what it's like to sit on the Henry Hudson Parkway with a disabled vehicle and no emergency flashers.
It's not fun.
Cars would pull up behind me, so close to my rear bumper that when they finally noticed the raised hood and the fact that I wasn't moving when the light changed, they hadn't left themselves enough room to maneuver around me. Somehow that was my fault. And their courteous reactions made that clear. Thank you, NY plate FDV 2906 for giving me the finger. Very ladylike of you. Thank you for all the horn honking NY plate 9085, MA plate 8TT 130 and NJ plate 252 ALB.
Equally disturbing ( and I hate to disclose the sex of the offenders, but the facts are the facts), 3 women sat behind me for multiple light cycles because they were so busy texting behind the wheel that they didn't notice all the cars whizzing by them on either side while my car never moved. And a special shout out to the one who finally came to and then beeped at me because she'd missed yet another green light. Oh and let's not forget the cab driver who pulled along side of me to chastise me for not having my flashers on. At least I think that's what he was babbling about...I couldn't open the power windows to hear his helpful advice.
So the tow truck finally rolls down 54th Street and the driver tells me he can't fix the cable. He has to tow me. I deduced rather quickly from the way his eyes lit up when I told him it would be a 100 mile ride that tow truck drivers get paid extra for long hauls. We finally hit the road after he picked up his buddy, dropped his buddy off, doubled back so he could drop his keys off with someone and then took a leisurely tour of the Bronx. He wanted my opinion on everything from gay marriage to legalized prostitution to the wildlife of rural Connecticut. Actually I don't think he gave a crap about my opinion. He just wanted me to keep him awake after his late night partying in Staten Island last night.
We finally got to Portland, dropped the car at the repair shop and then he wanted to take me home. Luckily I had made a phone call for MY buddy to pick me up at the garage. The tow truck driver insisted on cash payment for the extra mileage although I pointed out to him that there probably wouldn't have been any extra mileage but for all his personal errands en route. When I asked for a receipt after paying him the extra money, he acted like that was a fairly ridiculous request. Luckily my ride home arrived and being a much less trusting soul than I, she put her trusty cell phone camera to work. I'm not sure how I am supposed to use those photos going forward, but I guess it's good to know I have them.
So I'm home, my car is at the repair shop waiting for the guys to come in Monday morning and replace the damn cable, I didn't get to see FOLLIES and now the creepy tow truck driver knows where I live. So, because I ended up having a crappy night, it is time to call out the moron in the blue BMW, CT plate 894 YHN who was driving down I-95 in the Norwalk area like a bat out of hell, weaving in and out of traffic and tailgating. A trifecta. I hope the rest of your evening was as disappointing as mine. More importantly, I hope the need to prove your masculine prowess didn't cost anyone else their life.
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