I Never Saw This Coming

I picked my car up from Cletus' garage this afternoon, then the Amazon took the hippy van with it's spiffy new junkyard door over to the next town. The plan was for her to drop it off at the welder's shop, walk down to the sub place and wait for me to come pick her up when I got off work.

Sounds simple right?

I got off work at five, hopped in my newly repaired car and headed across the mountain. About half way there, I noticed the temperature gauge slowly climbing.

Oh gawd.

By the time I got to the sub shop, steam was pouring out from under the hood and the air was filled with that unmistakable aroma, Ode de' Radiator. I parked the car and went inside, on the verge of tears. The Amazon had picked up sandwiches for dinner, which we ended up eating in the car, in the parking lot as we waited for things to cool off.

In my head I reasoned that the car over heating had something to do with my running the heat, and that if I left it off, I might be able to at least get it home. My car logic is seldom correct, I don't know why I thought it would be any different this time. We made it as far as the dollar store on the bypass, still within sight of the sub place, before the temperature gauge red-lined and steam started pouring out.

I had just paid Cletus a couple hours earlier, emptying my checking account of all but five dollars and now I needed a tow truck. I did what any single, sensible, middle aged woman would do. I called my mommy and whined. Oh judge me if you want, but c'mon.. I think I deserved some whining at this point.

Ma just listened and let me talk it out, figuring out what I needed to do. I called the one tow truck operator in Frog Pond Holler. He answered his cellphone from the barn where he was out feeding the hogs and assured me he'd be there in about thirty minutes.

It was a tight squeeze in the cab of that truck with the pig farmer, the Amazon and me all crammed in there. Once or twice I think the Amazon was violated by the gear shift, by the time we got across the mountain she was damn near in my lap. The pig farmer didn't even bring us all the way home, he put us out in the middle of town, after dark. It's too hard to turn the rollback around on our road. We walked home (it's not very far at all) and were greeted by some very excited and confused dogs.

I guess I can call Lulu in the morning and bum a ride to the asylum.

I can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring.