Tonight I thought my tire exploded. I was pumping gas in beautiful St. Charles, Minnesota and my car shook beyond recconing. I was bent over at the pump, stretching my hamstrings, and I ducked at the loud blow. I opened my eyes and stood up to see a large U-Haul truck pulling away.
Running around the driverside I found my door crushed in and dented.
I ran after the U-Haul leaving the gas pump hanging out of my tank.
The woman driving assured me she wasn't fleeing the scene, and when she opened the door she stumbled to the ground followed by two orange tabby kittens, three kids, and her very intoxicated husband.
"Don't call the police," was the first thing she said. I froze, unaware of how to proceed. A lovely woman named Lea (from Normal, Illinois) had her husband call the police while we distracted the entourage.
After an hour of questioning and exchanging and waiting I was free to get on my way.
Officer Josh was very helpful and sweet. He had that accent. And everytime he spoke I wanted to ask him to say "dontcha know". But I figured that would probably be disrespectful.
So now marley and I are in the Radisson Hotel in downtown Rochester. My aunt and uncle put me up for the night. I know, I know. You thought this trip was gonna be me and a tent and stinky armpits. There's plenty of time for that, ladies and gentlemen. But for tonight, Marley gets his own sleep number bed and I get fresh hot coffee in the morning.
And then I get to call GEICO and figure out the best way to proceed with my car repairs.
Aint life grand!
(St. Charles had gas for $3.89/gallon. I thought I was in heaven for a moment).
2 comments:
You gotta be kidding me. Let me know how things turn out.
Sorry that your visit to my homeland has left a few scars. But you will never forget it and if you do you can call me and I can muster back my "Fargo" accent.
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