So I've been trying to start a blog for a long time now. I've got so much to say its unbelievable so instead of it falling on deaf ears I've decided to let it out to the universe, let my words swivel in someone else's mind for a bit.
This occurence is what gave me the final push I needed.
Its blazing hot, I'm practically roasting in my car, window wound down to its limit. I'm on my way back to work coming from running a few errands. The Robot turns red forcing me to stop, I flick through the radio stations a few times and finally settle upon a station playing one of my favourite songs (for now). As I happily jam away, the robot (traffic light) turns green and I begin to move; I'm halfway through the intersection and one of the strangest things happen -I guess this is the part where I'm supposed to emphasise how often strange things happen to me or around me at least, but I don't have a vocabulary broad enough to express this in depth at the moment - so I proceed to cross over the intersection.
And,my steering wheel falls off! Brilliant.
I then realise how useless the rest of this big bulky piece of machinery is sans a steering wheel... I instinctively yet calmly try to jam the wheel back into, what seemed to be the correct place to stick it into, so that I can at least move out of the way of the other better functioning vehicles.
I manage. Barely.
As I do this I catch a fellow motorist glancing my way, staring with disbelief at what he was witnessing, that successfully confirmed my suspicion - this is no regular happening.
Straight into action mode. I make a phone call to the break and clutch place that repaired my car last - they are fabulous...they think I am too hence the first preference for "call a friend" I sound as panicked as I can without sounding like I'm on a verge of a nervous breakdown. They call me back as promised within 2 mins and recommend a guy near the place I'm stranded. They've called they guy to tell him I'll be calling.
I call him and he sounds like a cool chap. I wait 30 mins or so and call him back, trying to sound as least forceful as possible without giving the impression that I'm okay. He makes some funny sounding excuses about why they might only be able to come and help 45 mins from when I"m calling. If I'm lucky.
So plan B - I call my insurance company, confident that I'll be helped as in the past. I hear some long story for why I don't "qualify for free roadside assistance at this time" I'm subconsciously slipping into gotta-get-hysterical-or-I'm-fucked gear and I turn into that woman on the phone that harassed the telephone operator and demanded to speak to the manager him/her self no negotiations. My angry talk is not swaying him, so I get into bullet form lingo " I'm a 21 yr old young female with a cheap second hand car, if I knew I would only qualify for only 2 roadside assists a YEAR I wouldn't have chosen you as a service provider!Think about it for yourself!' it works. We say our brief goodbyes and the process of getting me a tow-truck begins.
As soon as I hang up, a greasy skinny man approaches the car and asks if the car is mine. I say yes and instinctively step out of the car. There's something I trust about this stranger. There's something oddly familiar about him. He looks like he knows what he's doing and I automatically call my insurance broker to cancel the towing service. Within minutes the problem seems solved. I'm astonished, I ask the man what his name is, realising I didn't even know his name. He steps out of the car after parking it in a more civilised manor. I say thank you repeatedly and ask him what to do the next time this happens.
He looks at me with a knowing eye and says "I assure you it won't happen again" and walks away.
I know it won't.
