This is the story that never ends: Deux
A funny thing happened on the way to the funeral
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Like, I set my alarm for 7AM with the intention of going to the gym before I left for Long Island. Did I go? Nope. Was I a little upset by this, yes, because I hadn’t gone Wednesday either (Heather: 0; Heather’s waist: 457). One day without the gym, pisses me off; two days, make me think about a colonic. I also intended to leave my apartment at 10AM thus giving me plenty of time to lounge around my Aunt’s condo for three hours, prior to my Grandfather’s viewing and funeral service. I left at 10:11 AM. Perfect.
Now, let’s play a fun game called Guess who got a flat tire on I-95 and doesn’t have AAA, a map or a clue as to where she’s located. Ready? Go! I mean I knew I had hit some bumpy road, but then I had the all too familiar feeling of rim on pavement and the smell of burnt rubber. Deep breaths, this will only put me an hour tops off of the projected course. All is well (have I mentioned how anal I can be when it comes to driving times, but when it comes to being at my desk by 9AM, I find that a wee bit difficult?). So um yeah, again I call my mother who tells me to call 911.
When I first learned how to dial 911, it was in the age of Rescue 911. I always envisioned my first time to be to save my mother after she had a horrible injury. Or maybe to save Garrett after he fell in the (fictional) pool. But alas not, as my first time calling 911 was because I’m an idiot who doesn’t have AAA. Long story short, I called, they came and put my donut on and I was informed that no, I wouldn’t be able to drive the 3 hours left to NY and that the next exit was a mile away. Ok. Fine. In East bumble fuck Delaware. Like, I expected cows and shit in them there parts of the state. I had to stop at three different places before being price gouged for a quality BF Goodrich. I got the tire and then left on my merry way…
Like I said paved to hell…I started back onto I-95 when my mirror. The busted mirror that was precariously held to my car with clear duct tape, was flapping in the breeze as I was doing 80MPH. Convinced that I was about to be mirrorless and/or pulled over, I decided to get off at the next exit (this time in New Jersey). I figured that like in most cities, there’d be a CVS near by, but then again, this is New Jersey. So instead of a CVS, I happened upon a Walmart. There’s something to be said for reapplying silver duct tape to your car in the middle of a Walmart parking lot.
I’ll spare you the inane details of the remainder of the trip, which included – but are not limited to – traffic, a 45 minute wait to get gas, pouring rain, the brief second where I contemplated leaving my car sitting on the Belt parkway and walking from JFK to Long Island, and when I decided that chocolate teddy grahams are the best fucking thing on earth. Lesson learned: Get ye some AAA and always use the silver duct tape.
Next up: It’s all Relative