Something was wrong. The whole thing started kicking. As my foot pressed down on the pedal, the car went from 60 mph to 50. The gauge needles flimsily fluctuated like noodles. The engine lights started flashing. I noticed the steering wheel locked up, but with enough force, I could change my trajectory, slightly.
I pulled up to what was right between the freeway and an on-ramp (Luckily, I was close to it and there were no cars in my way). The car turned off by itself upon stopping. I popped open the hood and checked for any irregularities. It didn't look, sound, or smell good. Still, I promised I'd get to this studio and by God, I was going to get there.
I got there. We had a great time, one of the best film shoots I had ever been on.
On the way back, I decided to avoid the freeway as best I can. Heed my advice: the next time you're in L.A., don't take Sunset Boulevard. It is its own Bermuda Triangle.
Traffic was bumper-to-bumper. My car stopped on the road again, but I was able to start it up again after waiting a few seconds.
I eventually found myself on Wilshire Boulevard. I didn't mind the detour as I love Santa Monica, but by then, my car died for the third time as I was taking a right. It was time for me to call AAA. I managed to get my jalopy to the nearest legal curb and waited patiently.
Now, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's the stubbornness of others. I requested a tow since I knew I lived close, but I also knew this car in its current state would be a death trap. And not just for me.
The guy showed up and I told him exactly what was wrong with my car. I made it clear that I needed to get towed. I should tell you that his attempts at human emotions were blatantly fake. I looked into his eyes to see if there was anything there. His smile, his handshake, they were learned, but not true.
"Can I see the keys?" He asked.
I handed him the keys, expecting him to tie the seat belt to the steering wheel. This wasn't my first tow.
But he didn't do that. He got in and turned the car on.
"You don't have to check it. It'll seem fine, but it stops randomly" I remind him.
Still, he floored the gas pedal while in park.
Now I'm roaring over the roar of the engine.
"I'm telling you! It seems fine now! It'll stop on the road!"
He gives me my key and says this:
"It seems alright to me. Why don't you drive and I'll follow?"
It's times like these I'm convinced my life is a multi-camera sitcom. As if I was calling AAA for kicks? That I'm some perverted young man who likes to take time away from towing companies simply because there's nothing to watch on Primetime?
In any case, the soulless AAA bot towed me and my car home. That's all that mattered.
A friend of mine once wrote: "People suck and then you die." I've since taken that to heart because it's as sad as it is true. And that's what makes it so funny.
Namaste.
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