{"id":28646,"date":"2016-12-13T19:01:49","date_gmt":"2016-12-14T02:01:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/?p=28646"},"modified":"2016-12-13T20:16:16","modified_gmt":"2016-12-14T03:16:16","slug":"when-aaa-goes-bad","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/2016\/12\/13\/when-aaa-goes-bad\/","title":{"rendered":"When AAA goes bad"},"content":{"rendered":"

Cough …. cough … sputter.<\/em><\/p>\n

I knew it was a mistake the other day when I boasted about Old Blue’s sterling reliability.<\/p>\n

Sputter … gasp. Suddenly I feel the horsepower of a wooden go-kart under my right foot. Cough.<\/em><\/p>\n

But all is well. Though I’m miles from home, I’m in an area I know. And right there’s the parking lot of a defunct neighborhood c-store. I coast in as the engine finally dies. <\/p>\n

After a moment of “Ohshit, what now?” I call R., an old faithful shade-tree mechanic who lives only a few miles from where Old Blue now refuses to start.<\/p>\n

“I’m really sorry, but is it possible for you to come out and take a look? And if not, could I have AAA tow the car to your place?”<\/p>\n

“Oh, can you have them tow it? I’ve got an appointment in 45 minutes and I’m really running behind. They can bring you and the car to my place.”<\/p>\n

“Okay. But … um. Wait a sec. How will I get home if you’re at an appointment?”<\/p>\n

We talk a bit about logistics, then R. decides he’s got just barely enough time<\/em> to come get me. He’ll take me home and I can leave the vehicle for AAA. But by the time he arrives, I’m on the phone with AAA and the rep tells me absolutely not; you must stay with the vehicle. We will not tow it if you’re not there. R. has to leave without me.<\/p>\n

R. is having a terrible day. He has<\/em> to run for that appointment, but nice guy that he is, before leaving me to wait for AAA’s contract towing company, he walks me over to a nearby business and introduces me to a lady there who says I’m welcome to come in and stay warm.<\/p>\n

I’m glad to know that both shelter and a possible refuge from sketchy people is available. But I opt to stay out and walk Ava. It’s 39 degrees, but not raining or even particularly unpleasant. I’m dressed for the weather. Besides, how long can it take? There are two towing companies within 15 minutes of me. The AAA rep already told me if they can’t find somebody in my area that they work with, they’ll give me the opportunity to find a tow on my own and reimburse me later. Before he leaves, R. also gives me the number of an unlicensed gypsy tow guy, just in case. I know the man. He still has a giant Ron Paul sign on the back of his truck after all these years. He’s a friendly! So I am ALL SET.<\/p>\n

AAA takes a suspiciously long time to text me about towing arrangements. But I’m not worried. I’ve got three places to call if their contacts fail. Then comes the text. I paraphrase: “Some towing company you’ve never heard of will have someone there in an hour and a half.” <\/p>\n

An hour and a half? Are you kidding me?<\/em> I start to call AAA back to say no way am I going to hang out here in this cold, empty lot when there are three tow companies at my doorstep and probably a dozen of them half an hour away in the next county north. At which point I get a call from their chosen towing company — whose driver is already on the way from a town 60 miles from here (much of it on 25-mph roads).<\/p>\n

The tow company rep is reassuringly friendly. And practically the first thing he tells me is: “Go home. We don’t need you to be there. No. Seriously, we don’t care what AAA says. We’re from a small town, too, and we understand how it is. We’re not going to make you wait all that time in a cold car.”<\/p>\n

But … but … but.<\/p>\n

I text R. I don’t ask for his help. I can’t bring myself to impose on him. I just say, “Tow truck on its way from [NAME OF RIDICULOUSLY DISTANT TOWN IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE WHO THE HECK CAN BELIEVE THEY’D GO OUT OF THEIR WAY TO FIND SOME COMPANY OFF ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE?]. &^%$#@!” I’m figuring he expects me to go to that business next door and huddle and that Old Blue and I will simply show up at his place much later than expected.<\/p>\n

R — I said he was a good guy, didn’t I? — texts right back that his girlfriend will be there to take me home in 10-15 minutes.<\/p>\n

Things do not quite work out that way. It’s R himself who comes barreling in 25 minutes later, now in high dudgeon. Not at me; I understand that. It’s merely that between me, AAA, the appointment he’s now late for, and the CenturyTel rep who finally just now showed up at his girlfriend’s house, he’s having “a perfect storm” of a day. <\/p>\n

He does not like dogs, but he has taken the extra time to put a blanket in the back of his vehicle for Ava. “Hurry up. Get in,” he barks as I struggle to unclip the dangling flexi-leash from Ava’s collar, “I’m late.”<\/p>\n

Once we’re on the road, he apologizes. But there’s no need. I totally get what a wreck of a day he’s having and that I’m part of the wreckage. I’m just thrilled to get so much help from him, especially given the circumstances. He’s very sweet, in fact. A couple of years ago, while researching libertarianism online, he ran into my name and was shocked to discover that his client was “a somebody.” He likes my work and likes that I’ve inspired people. Now he tells me how nice it is that I’m so humble. I tell him I have a lot to be humble about.<\/p>\n

He drops me in front of his shop (which is on his girlfriend’s property) then runs, literally runs, for his appointment.<\/p>\n

I have a nice talk with his girlfriend in her warm, wood-heated house while she waits for the CenturyTel guy to finish up. After that the very nice lady, a cat rescuer, drives me home. Eventually the tow truck driver — who took somewhat longer than predicted to arrive — calls to see whether I need a ride. I tell him I’m all set — and I am.<\/p>\n

Warm and safe in my own house now.<\/p>\n

R. thinks Old Blue’s problem might be an ignition coil. Or not. We shall see. If it’s a medium-sized repair, we’ll do it. I’ll also have R. take a look at that funky blower motor. If it’s a big repair, Old Blue goes to the junk heap. But really, for a $700 car, she’s had a pretty good run. This is 17 months to the day<\/em> since I bought her and until this afternoon, she never gave me one second’s trouble.<\/p>\n

However, this is the second time I’ve had AAA go bad on me. I mean, I’m hugely grateful for their very existence and all. A year of their service is less than a single tow would cost me out of pocket. But when they mess up, they really do. Thank heaven for friendly small-town rescuers.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Cough …. cough … sputter. I knew it was a mistake the other day when I boasted about Old Blue’s sterling reliability. Sputter … gasp. Suddenly I feel the horsepower of a wooden go-kart under my right foot. Cough. But all is well. Though I’m miles from home, I’m in an area I know. And right there’s the parking lot of a defunct neighborhood c-store. I coast in as the engine finally dies. After a moment of “Ohshit, what now?” I call R., an old faithful shade-tree mechanic who lives only a few miles from where Old Blue now refuses…<\/p>\n

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