My car almost exploded on the freeway yesterday. It had been making a funny noise for the past couple of weeks, and I'd planned to take it in, well, today actually. As I drove home from work, bookmobile heavy with groceries, the unexplained sound escalated from "funny" to "assault rifle." When smoke began to billow out from under the hood, I felt compelled to turn on my hazards and pull over.
Things I am grateful for: My AAA membership.
Cars barreled past, rattling me, when I stepped from my vehicle onto the shoulder. This probably isn't very safe, I thought, as I popped the hood. I looked inside and saw what appeared to be an engine. Hmmm. The colors looked right, nothing was oozing lava or pus and there were no visible signs of a silverfish infestation. So, I got back inside and waited for the tow truck. I listened to an episode of the Moth on my Ipod and pulled a bran muffin from a grocery bag. I ate half. Thank God I didn't starve to death in the 20 minutes I waited for a tow. I'm good in a crisis.
When the tow driver arrived, he started my car. It still sounded like an assault rifle unloading. He winced.
"What do you think it is?" I asked.
"I don't know, but it sounds expensive."
He towed my car to a mechanic a few blocks from my apartment, and I'm still waiting on the diagnosis.
In happier news, my team is skating its first game of the 2010 season and you should come. It would cheer me up to see your shining face in the crowd, dear anonymous reader. Tickets will sell out in advance, so get yours soon.