You know those times in your life when you should just never, ever try?

Yeah, well, I had one of those times tonight.

A couple of days ago, I decided I would be a good sister and suggest keeping her car for the weekend while she was with some girlfriends. We made plans to ride to a neighboring town this evening after work to pick up her car.

Half way to our destination tonight, her car decided to get sick ... really sick. There was coughing ... there was hacking ... there was sputtering ... and a CHECK ENGINE light ... the kind that stays on and spells nothing but trouble.

Her plans weren't changing, however. She was still meeting her posse and heading on with the previously scheduled program. My plans, however, were radically changed, seeing as I was now soon to be stranded in a town 20 miles south of where I lived, in 100 degree heat, wearing heavy jean capris (because I'd planned on working indoors, in air conditioning all day, not hoofing it across two counties) and a too-tight tee shirt.

Ann's solution to the problem? "Call a friend."

Problem: Most of my friend's were out of town or unavailable. I called upon my friend Liz, who graciously dropped what she was doing to drive me to meet Ann in Frankfort in the first place. Liz hasn't lived here very long, and she's not necessarily sure of where she's going, because of her unfamiliarity of the area. To make matters much, much worse, her cell phone was dying, and she doesn't have a car charger. So, attempting a "talk her in" to my location would prove to be very tricky, indeed.

Despite those odds, Liz braved the high temps and the lack of geographical knowledge and headed to my rescue. Rescue, indeed, considering my sister was going ahead with her plans and leaving me stranded.

"Could you get your friends to drop me off at a restaurant so I can sit in the AC while I wait for Liz?"

Nope. According to Ann, they were on a tight schedule, and the inconvenience of driving me to a restaurant would make them have to go way out of their way. Instead, she suggested I just hoof it up the hill to the Doughdaddy/BP's next door, where I could treat myself to a doughnut (not on her), and wait there. Since I didn't have anything more than a dollar in my purse, I just sat there ...

Liz showed up, and as I got into the car, she said, "Do you hear that noise?"

I did. It was low, and gravelly, yet loud, and got worse as she increased the speed.

Again, I need to point out that her cell phone was on one bar, and now, MY cell phone was on one bar. And Liz's car is making all kinds of racket!

On a wing and a prayer, we made it back to Frankfort, wherein I announced that I was tired, hungry, grouchy, and no longer interested in completing the tasks I had waiting for me at school. I would go home ... only, as I walked toward my truck, I noticed a rather large, metal file jammed into my truck tire -- it had caused a two inch gash in the surface of the tire, and I could just imagine the flat I'd receive half way between the school parking lot and the nearest tire place, that I felt relatively sure would now be closed ... seeing as it was now 6:30 p.m.

I texted Carrie and said, "I'm calling a tow truck. He kept calling me honey and baby on the phone. If you don't hear from me again, tell the Frankfort Police ______ Towing Company."

I waited 25 minutes in the heat for the tow truck dude to come. He was very nice and was able to yank the piece of metal right out of my tire. "Just needs a plug, Baby."

He refused to let me pay him, and he was on his way.

Here's the kicker. I failed to text Carrie back, and so at 10 p.m., when she STILL hadn't heard from me, she was getting ready to Google the Frankfort Police Department and let them know that I was last in the company of a certain Towing Company.

Good gosh! The trouble I would have caused there!

All is well. I am home. And it's best if you just keep me away from all motorized vehicles for the foreseeable future.


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