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Tuesday, June 15, 2010

You Can't Make These People Up

So. My car grunted and expired battery-wise on Sunday. Which was really nice of it cause it wasn't after work some dark scary night. I thought I lucked out as far as you can when you're car won't go.

Until I met tow truck man. Kudos to me for having AAA. No cookie for them because they let this guy out to associate with people.

He arrives right before the tornado from OZ is about to strike a glancing blow on my hometown. The whole day has been a moisty hot mess, and it decides to storm in the 10 minutes I'm having my car towed.

Tow truck man is not happy. He has apparently been rained on several times in other municipalities and is not chipper to participate once again in said drenching. He tells me so.

Did I mention Wal Mart's Auto Shop closes in a mere 45 minutes? We are only 5 minutes away, so this does not seem insurmountable. I hope. Tow truck man tells me to get in the truck and loads my car up. He is able to run to the vehicle just as the heavens open, avoiding the rain. I, on the other hand, would not have minded being rained on because I'd been trying to jump my car in 90 degree Missouri humidity. Little Orphan Annie has nothing on the frizz developing in my hair.

It is 1.3 miles to Wal Mart. I know because the internet told me when I searched for the auto body hours. It is a long 1.3 miles. Tow truck man is complaining about everything from his boss to the stupid people on the road who don't turn their lights on when it's raining. In fact, he is so incensed by the latter that he rolls down his window to yell at the people who are lightless. Several times. It seems they can't hear him through the window that is up to block out the rain storm. Finally he gets their attention. "Turn on your lights! It's the law!"

"Morons," he says in a companionable aside to me. I make no sudden movements and make sure my seatbelt is fastened. It's the law.

We arrive at Wal Mart scant minutes later where tow truck man insists he will not be unhooking my car until the deluge has stopped. Since I was not jumping up and down and insisting he suffer the hurricane, I am puzzled by his firmness on the matter. He continues to discuss with himself how abused he's been.

Now we are sitting just feet from the bay doors of salvation inside the auto shop as I cower against the truck door. Tow truck man calls in to report on this little debacle. A lengthy description of how hard it's storming is relayed to his unlucky dispatcher. I do a reverse rain chant mentally and 5 minutes later the rain stops and the sun comes out. I'm free!

I make a break for the auto shop office, tow truck man off-loads my car and drives away without looking back. I am unsurprised and grateful at this turn of events. That. Was awesome.

Tow truck man is so in my next book.