Monday, August 21, 2006
Series of Unfortunate Events
It seems God is trying to tell me to stop driving, which is unfortunate because I love it so. After the DUI, my car got hit by an 18-wheeler. Dramatics aside, driving to Deming, it drifted into my lane and the bottom of the trailer hit the top of my roof. While not messing up anything too badly, it broke all the windows in the car. The driver then proceeded to drive away.
The cops came after two hours of my brothers and I sitting along the freeway outside of Las Cruces (read "the middle of nowhere"). Getting my report, he asked if we were hurt. They were fine, but I had the tiniest scratch from all the glass and, unsure of its importance, told the officer about it. He said "I'm sure you'll survive." (Later and still unsure, I told the insurance company about it and they said the same thing, though kinder.)
Our insurance company wouldn't let us get the car fixed until the troopers had enough time to find the guy so the car sat in the driveway for two weeks. One day, I see outside a tow truck pulling the car onto it. I feel relief as they finally came. I talk to the guy to find out the car's been reposessed. So there's another two weeks to pay the bill.
Eventually, the car gets into the shop and stays there for a month. My dad and I go to pick it up to find out the insurance won't release it because the police found the trailer. The insurance wanted to try to squeeze the cost out of the trucker, instead of taking care of it themselves, so we must wait for them.
Friday morning, I got my car.
Friday afternoon, my mom told me the car has to stay in El Paso in order to get inspected by the insurance company. I leave to school in Socorro Monday morning in my mom's truck, which at 300,000 miles is expected to give shoddy performance. I'm singing along to Creedence Clearwater Revival and one of the tires blows out. I pull over and get the tire off. Unsuprisingly, while the tire is off, the jack slips and the disc brake hits the ground. That low to the ground, I can't get the jack under the truck to get it back up. So I spend two more sitting along the freeway outside of Las Cruces (read "the middle of nowhere") trying to MacGyver some way to get the spare on the truck. Using what is more than likely all the luck I have left, I get it on and get to school just in time for the dining hall to close.
What a joke.
The cops came after two hours of my brothers and I sitting along the freeway outside of Las Cruces (read "the middle of nowhere"). Getting my report, he asked if we were hurt. They were fine, but I had the tiniest scratch from all the glass and, unsure of its importance, told the officer about it. He said "I'm sure you'll survive." (Later and still unsure, I told the insurance company about it and they said the same thing, though kinder.)
Our insurance company wouldn't let us get the car fixed until the troopers had enough time to find the guy so the car sat in the driveway for two weeks. One day, I see outside a tow truck pulling the car onto it. I feel relief as they finally came. I talk to the guy to find out the car's been reposessed. So there's another two weeks to pay the bill.
Eventually, the car gets into the shop and stays there for a month. My dad and I go to pick it up to find out the insurance won't release it because the police found the trailer. The insurance wanted to try to squeeze the cost out of the trucker, instead of taking care of it themselves, so we must wait for them.
Friday morning, I got my car.
Friday afternoon, my mom told me the car has to stay in El Paso in order to get inspected by the insurance company. I leave to school in Socorro Monday morning in my mom's truck, which at 300,000 miles is expected to give shoddy performance. I'm singing along to Creedence Clearwater Revival and one of the tires blows out. I pull over and get the tire off. Unsuprisingly, while the tire is off, the jack slips and the disc brake hits the ground. That low to the ground, I can't get the jack under the truck to get it back up. So I spend two more sitting along the freeway outside of Las Cruces (read "the middle of nowhere") trying to MacGyver some way to get the spare on the truck. Using what is more than likely all the luck I have left, I get it on and get to school just in time for the dining hall to close.
What a joke.
// posted by Unknown @ 10:51 PM 
