Stop the Stupid: Roadside Service Edition

I didn’t really feel like going to the pool today, mostly because my shoulder was stiff and achy. And that’s exactly why I needed to go. It had been a week and the pain woke me during the night. I convinced myself to go by remembering that swimming is more fun than injections, physical therapy, ice packs, and TENS. It took me until around eleven to twist my own sore arm.

After a bowl of oatmeal, I began the long process of preparing for a day at the pool with my high-maintenance self. (Yes, I admit that since I’m the only one who has to maintain me.) I need at least 64 ounces of ice water, the Kindle, something to write on in case people-watching turns into a story idea, a phone, two beach towels so no part of me has to touch the plastic chairs, tanning oil, lunch, a couple of snacks, and two vaporizers because I get bored with one flavor. I packed the beach bag and the cooler, changed into my bathing suit, fed and watered the pets, located my glasses and keys, and lugged my high-maintenance load all ninety-four steps to the car. 

My battery was dead. Totally. Not even a click. No problem; I had the phone right there in the high-maintenance bag. Well, it was a bit of a problem since the phone was in the bottom of the bag, and because it was already close to ninety degrees and I couldn’t roll down the car windows without a battery but, fortunately, I have roadside service through my auto insurance and it wouldn’t be a problem for long. 

Ha!

Somewhere around 11:30, I used my phone to put in my request for roadside service via the internet. The phone asked for specifics which I provided, including in the ‘anything else we should know’ box a note that there were two cars like mine in the parking lot and mine would be the one in a handicap space. I was instructed to stay with my car and someone would call to confirm when the order had been processed. That seemed a little backwards to me; shouldn’t I be able to leave my car until the call came, and then be requested to stay with it? But, I couldn’t argue with a phone message because there was no ‘anything else you’d like to whine about’ area and my call for assistance function was gone now that it had been replaced by this message.

At 12:12, when I had not received the call, and still had that message showing, I called the insurance company to report that I had not received the call and I was getting a little uncomfortable standing in a parking lot, in the sun, on a 90 degree day. (For the record, black bathing suits aren’t the coolest choice for undergarments on 90 degree days.) The lady I spoke with put me on hold, then returned to tell me help was on the way and should arrive at 12:29. I asked if I could go inside to wait and she said no, I needed to stay with the car since the estimated time of arrival wasn’t always accurate. If help arrived and I wasn’t with the car, they would leave.

At 1:15, I called the insurance company again to report that help did not arrive at 12:29, nor had I received the first call from the roadside service people yet. Was she positive they had been notified? She was positive. This time, she verified my phone number and discovered that they had two of my numbers transposed. That’s why I didn’t receive the call but I had been with the car so he didn’t arrive and see me not standing next to my car. No problem, she would contact the roadside service people again and they should arrive within an hour. She told me not to leave the car, though, because maybe they would come sooner. 

At 1:20, I received a text message instructing me to call the roadside service company. I called that number, someone picked up and asked me to hold, and without waiting for me to say a word, laid the phone down and continued to talk to someone else on another phone. I listened to her explain that she was sorry but for the delay but that they hadn’t had any drivers most of the day. This went on for a few minutes before she hung up and then went to settle something that was going on with kids in the background. I hung up and called again. She answered the phone, said to please hold, and actually put me on hold this time so I couldn’t hear what she was doing with the kids and instead had to listen to music that was worse than kids screaming. 

When she finally returned and listened to my story, she called me hon and apologized because she had to put me on hold again and call my insurance company. I told her my phone had very little charge left, I was roasting, and I had to pee, so please hurry. Maybe she did hurry but it sure didn’t feel that way to me, especially when she came back to call me sweetie and thank me for patience that I did not possess, and put me on hold again. At 1:34, she came back to ask my name. Don’t know how she was discussing me with my insurance company all that time without my name but it’s possible that I was the only person who had called my insurance company for roadside service today. 

Finally, she told me to stay with my car and someone would be here in twenty-three minutes – around 1:50 – which wasn’t twenty-three minutes from the time on my clock so that might be another problem. I told her I wouldn’t last twenty-three minutes. I was going inside – ninety-four steps – and she would have to instruct the driver to call if he got there before I returned. She reminded me that he might leave if he got there and I wasn’t standing outside. I reminded her that I might write terrible things about both the insurance company and her company if that happened. That didn’t happen so I’m not using any names here. 

A very nice man arrived at 2:05. I must have looked as bad as I felt because he was extremely apologetic. He asked me to pop the hood and I moved away from the car to allow him access, while explaining that I am unable to pop the hood. I didn’t feel quite so disabled when he popped both the trunk and gas door before I showed him where the hood latch was located.

He hooked his portable battery to the battery in my car and asked me to turn the key. Nothing happened. Not a click or a dash light. Nothing. Terrible thoughts of starters and fuel pumps and money hit me. But, he called me out to look at some oily stuff on my battery, and explained that because of that, the battery wasn’t connecting with something in the little cover that goes over the stems, and I’m thinking I remember seeing cars that didn’t even have those little rubber covers but that was ancient history and maybe things are different now, or maybe I was delirious or having heat stroke. Finally, he attached the jumper cables to things other than the posts and my car started. He said I needed to clean the oily stuff off of the stems so I asked what I should use to do that. He said sometimes he would suggest Coke but he thought I should go to Auto Zone.

Auto Zone. No thanks. 

I told him I would go to the service station around the corner, signed his papers and thanked him. He told me to let the car run ten minutes – or drive on to the service station. Not wanting to take any chances, I headed straight to the service station. Two blocks from home, I tried to roll down the windows because I really did think I might have a heat stroke. As soon as I hit the button, the car died again. No problem, I thought. He must pass me to get out of here. Only he didn’t show up. I sat through two light cycles, waving people around me. 

So, I called his company again. They told me I’d have to call my insurance company again and start over. That wasn’t going to happen. 

At least now, I was on the street. I turned my emergency flashers on, got my jumpers out of the trunk, and stood outside. A nice man stopped and was getting ready to turn his car around to jump mine when the roadside service guy finally caught up with me. When I told him what his company said when I called, he shook his head and said he would jump my car. He did, and he followed me to the service station. Nice guy.

So were the guys at the service station who said that oily stuff on my stems was to prevent corrosion. They tested my battery and it was fine (very nice of them because I would easily have paid for a new one if they’d said I needed it) and it just needed to be tightened. They fixed that and sent me on my way.

I didn’t make it to the pool. Instead, I brought my pool bags in, changed out of my bathing suit, picked up my grocery bags and went to buy Turkey Hill black raspberry ice cream, fudge-cicles yogurt, a steak, cottage cheese and fruit, pretzels – treats for poor little me - with the money I didn’t have to spend on a battery. When I got to the car – 

It started. Ha! But, I noticed that the insulated, zipper bag for frozen goods was unzipped. Fortunately, I peeked inside before zipping it and saw that it contained two items: pretzels and bread. All of my refrigerator items were in the other bag – making this a two stupid stories in one post.