Tunnel of Stress

For years we had a car that I would constantly complain about because it was old, the sun visor would fall down whenever you hit a bump, only one windshield wiper worked. When I started it, it would make this horrible squeaking sound that caused everyone around me to stop and stare. Then to top it off, I backed into it with our other car so it had a huge dent in the driver's door, and the window would no longer go up or down. (no need to go into details of why I hit the car) So whenever I'd go through a drive-thru or pay for parking, I'd have to open my door and explain how my windows didn't work.

I finally complained enough for Chris to buy us a new car. I have had my new car for a few weeks and have been loving it. I have XM radio free for three months and I constantly have it on Blue Collar Radio. I hate to get out of the car because I'm cracking up at all the comedians. It has bluetooth built in, so talking on the phone is so easy.

Everything seemed perfect until a couple nights ago when Chris called to tell me as he was getting off the freeway, the car just died. What? Our new car? I thought he was joking, but no. He had it towed and the dealership said it was a bad fuse. They supposedly fixed it and we got our car back.

Now, of all the years I had my little thrasher car and complained, it never let me down. Yes, at times I was embarrassed as I would leave a job and it would make awful sounds as I started it, but it always got me to where I was going. And I never even bothered to lock it when I would work in Baltimore, because if someone took it, I would've shed no tears.

So back to my new car. I'm driving to a job in Baltimore, laughing as I listen to Bill Engvall talk about the differences between men and women. I start driving through the Fort McHenry tunnel, which runs under the Patapsco River, when all of a sudden my car starts losing speed. I'm pushing on the gas and nothing is happening. So I start freaking out and yelling at the car like I can convince it to start up again and get me out of the tunnel, but it's not listening to me. Meanwhile, there's a big truck behind me who is so close, he's sitting in the back seat of my car.

I continue to get very psycho as I try in vein to restart the car. I came to a stop as I reached the end of the tunnel, but couldn't move off to the side, since there was nowhere to go.

I was shaking and feeling helpless and didn't want the cars behind me to start yelling at me. I called Chris and I know I sounded like a lunatic as I started yelling, "The car died and I'm in the tunnel!"

As he was talking to me, I could see police lights reflecting behind me. Then what had to be only two minutes after I stalled, a policeman walked to my car and asked if I was okay. I again had a psycho moment, "My car just died! It's new. I don't know why it won't start!!"

He very calmly told me it was okay and to stay in the car. I got back on the phone trying to call the dealership to get a tow truck, but before I could even do that, a tow truck pulled up. I was relieved and shocked how fast he got there. Of course now I know they monitor those tunnels and have them cleared right away. I thanked the officer (who, by the way, looked like he was 16) and wanted to tell him I'm really not a nut case.

As I drove away in the tow truck, the driver had the police radio on and I heard someone talking about "the lady with the stalled car is now out, on her way to the EZPass parking lot and we can reopen the tunnel." Great -- I shut down the tunnel.

I called work, told them why I would be late. Chris picked me up and took me the rest of the way to my job.

When I got there, one of the attorneys said he saw the tunnel was closed because of a disabled car. I told him, yes, that was me. They were all very understanding of why I was late.

So once again, my new car that I begged for is in the shop. The dealership gave us a rental car, which I'm loving because it has heated seats, so they can take their time fixing mine. But I've realized just because something is old, makes funny noises, and not all the parts are working right, I shouldn't complain if it does what it's supposed to do.

Ha! I hope when I'm like that -- old, not working right, etc, Chris doesn't trade me in for a newer model!