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Community Corner

I Towed You So

Car trouble that results in a nightmare experience.

Dear East Meadow,

I love cars. I also love computers and all types of gadgets. However, I only love them when they work properly. When they do not, I tend to become somewhat panicky. When my car began making a metallic grinding noise on the way to work last week, I was not amused. I called my husband, who suggested I drive the car home slowly, in the right lane, with my hazard lights on. Why don't I just paint a red bulls-eye on the back of the car while I'm at it? I replied.

Luckily I still had Roadside Assistance. I called and they were so nice; the first question the agent asked me was, "Are you and the vehicle in a safe place?" It made me feel warm and fuzzy and (slightly) less panicked. (Note to self: find out if they have Couchside Assistance for laptops.)

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We arranged for a tow truck to come at 4:30 p.m. My boss insisted I make it earlier; she was worried about me being in a tow truck in the rain in the dark. (I have the world's most caring boss. My husband, not so much!) My office is in a complex which is, well, fairly complex. It is called a "quadrangle." This stumped the agent. I patiently spelled it and explained that a quadrangle simply sounds more impressive than an ordinary square or rectangle and therefore commands more lease money per square foot. (I know that a square is always a rectangle, and a rectangle is not always a square, but where does that leave the quadrangle?) I was given a 1:30 p.m. appointment. I went outside to wait.

It was windy and rainy out. I sat in the car with the door open for a while. My work friend called to alert me that the driver was in the area but apparently lost. I called the dispatcher, who called the driver. The driver sounded just as panicked as I felt. I gave the dispatcher several landmarks, which she relayed to the driver. He didn't recognize any of them. I began to feel less warm and fuzzy and more anxious and windblown. After about 30 minutes more, the truck finally entered the parking lot. I jumped out of the car and waved my arms wildly to flag him down.

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He slowed down and we smiled at each other. Then…he quickly drove off! I am not making this up. Surely he must be turning around, I reasoned. No, he made a left and disappeared out of the complex! The dispatcher was very apologetic and insisted on staying on the phone with me until the rogue truck reappeared. This took another 15 minutes or so. FINALLY the big black truck pulled up to me. "Why didn't you stop when I waved you down?" I asked. "Didn't you see me?" "Sure did," he replied. "I thought you were on your lunch hour and was just being friendly." Oh my gosh. Was I being punked? Were there hidden cameras? But no, this guy was for real.

Eventually my SUV was loaded onto the flatbed and off we went. I suddenly realized that he wouldn't be allowed on the parkway. "Oh yeah, you're right," he giggled. "I have absolutely no sense of direction!" So naturally you became a tow truck driver, I wanted to retort, but at that point I needed him way more than he needed me. We then proceeded to make a 10-minute U-turn and had to take the side streets all 18 miles back to East Meadow.

He had an ancient GPS that seemed to know less than he did. He had a lot of trouble shifting gears, and kept stalling out. Apparently equipment like shocks and springs was optional on this truck. The windows were stuck in the down position and wind and rain blew in all the way. We bumped and grinded down Conklin Street for about 40 minutes, exchanging small talk. I thought my bladder was going to burst. We finally arrived at my mechanic on Front Street. My new friend even insisted on driving me home, which was very nice; I had to persuade him to accept a tip.

When I got in the house I sprinted to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I then realized I looked like the crazed lovechild of Roseanne Roseannadanna and Bozo The Clown. Windblown is NOT a good look for me.

My mechanic fixed the car that evening. I was so glad not to have to leave it overnight. We picked the car up and found out that the "tensioner" had caused the problem, whatever the heck that is.

I found that somewhat ironic, as tension is ALWAYS a problem for me. I drove my car home, tentatively at first, half expecting the noise to still be there. But no, as usual my mechanic came through and the car sounded great. Whew!

I drove to work the next day totally noise-free. Also sweating, as the air conditioner was suddenly blowing warm air-oh no! I could feel the tension beginning.

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