So there I was, tooling along in my husband's stylin' ride. He's got the super stiff, tinted window 98 Civic as opposed to the religious stickered, stick-shift, high riding 98 Civic. They're both green. Actually, my son drives my former car and has done unspeakable teen age boy things to it; like taking off the trailer hitch and painting the hub caps black. Now, I drive an Odyssey, a mom-mobile, most of the time anyway.
This week our youngest is taking drama classes. Not that he isn't already the best actor around. But his classes are way down in Seattle, pretty much under the Space Needle. It's pretty far. So, this morning I walked outside to find the low gas burning Civic in the driveway, my Odyssey having been van-napped by my husband. He was thinking good thoughts. Save gas, save money; drive the cheaper car.
Except it's a 98 Civic. It's old. And it's total crap.
Yes, yes, yes. He's the major moto-head. He's just replaced the timing chain and the transmission and he knows how to do everything. Um...
Except make it go when it won't.
The long story short, I was heading onto a big Seattle type highway, one of those that the trucks use when the freeways are full. Eventually even holding the accelerator down to the floor let me go 2 miles per hour. Literally. After lots of honking, yelling, and some interesting gestures finally the little dog and I were safely on a little strip of shoulder.
I called my husband, I called my son, I called a cab, and finally I called the insurance company with the road side assistance and TOWING plan. The poor woman on the phone in Florida finally kind of figured out where I was (hello, 900 and I-5....it's not that hard!) and sent a tow truck.
It was a nice big tow truck, it took TWO steps to climb into the cab. I had to lift the little dog up.
But after the nice man did the things you have to do to load the car onto the big truck bed, he climbed back into the cab. Ahmed. He was so kind. He set his clipboard on the floor and invited Noodles to sit next to him. He agreed to drop me at the parking lot where MY minivan was waiting so I could get back downtown before my youngest was done with his drama class. He told me about his little Shitzhu who ran away. He showed me a super sneaky short cut between that wicked fast highway and the road that goes to the mall.
And he was very kind.
I was just a little shaky after sitting on the side of the road for an hour and after the sort of harrowing drive before that. It was nice to have a kind person who asked how I was and just what had happened.
I love when you find a little moment of grace in a really difficult thing. People are amazing. They really are.