Hey, wow, what a weekend. I was supposed to spend it in a cute little rustic cabin on the Olympic peninsula, but instead I spent a decent chunk of it in the less scenic parts of Tacoma (which is saying something, believe me), and the rest of it right here in Seattle.
We were cruising down I-5 southbound at 70 mph on Saturday morning when the car just stopped working. All functions ceased. He pulled the car over to the left-hand side of the road, so the interstate traffic was whooshing by inches past my window. A few minutes later a highway trooper came and pushed our car across to the right-hand shoulder, while I white-knuckled the little handle thingy and held my breath. Being pushed across six lanes of traffic is unsettling.
We called a tow truck. The tow truck was driven by the Uber Tow Truck Driver, an extremely large man with shaggy red hair and a red beard--a Viking if ever there was one. His twelve year old daughter was in the cab.
Me: So, I bet you're pretty much a professional at this towing stuff, huh?
Her: I've been going out with my daddy since I was a little baby. I seen a lot of stuff.
Me: I bet.
They towed us to a Chrysler dealership (the car in question was a Chrysler), where the garage was, of course, closed for the weekend. Same deal all over town. Still, the nice folks at Chrysler offered to put us in a brand new (but no doubt equally shitty) Chrysler for no money down. We demured.
There were several other misadventures along the way, but long story short (too late!), we took the bus back to Seattle, and that was the end of our weekend getaway.
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