Dust of an Unlucky Moon

shelby-miller-653561-unsplashI don’t know if she was born in the dust of an unlucky moon, sneezed at the wrong time, or was under the rug when God passed out the good luck genes. Bad luck seems to follow my daughter around like a cloud of dust follows Pigpen in Peanuts cartoons.

It happened again yesterday. I was wheeling home from work, dead tired after a long day at the office, and just as I turned into the garage my cell phone rang. I missed it, but before I could get inside, the home phone was ringing.

“Mom, it’s me. My car broke down on the Interstate and quit. Can you come and get me?”

“Where are you?”

“At the gas station near the mall.”

“Where’s the car?”

“It’s still on the side of the Interstate. I’ve been stranded for two hours.”

“Did you call a tow truck?”

“Yes, but they didn’t come. I saw you go by on your way home.”

Well, it’s an emergency. Nothing to do but turn around and go back. Why didn’t the tow truck come? I need to call them back. I forgot to ask who she called.

Halfway back to the mall, my cell phone rang again. “Mom, they are sending another tow truck. The first one broke down on the way to get me.”

Good grief! Not only can they not make a car that runs these days, they can’t even make an emergency vehicle that will!

I made it to the gas station at about the time the towing company called again to say the second truck was on the way and would be there in 25 minutes.

She had called the roadside assistance that came with the car warranty. That was good thinking. I never would have thought of them. Of course, with her luck she has plenty of experience with tow trucks. I wondered if the truck that broke down was made by the same company as her car.

“Where did you tell them to tow it

“They will only tow it if you take it to a dealership.”

We just spent a thousand dollars on repairs to that stupid piece of junk a month ago, so that’s where it needs to go anyhow.

“What did it do?”

“It just started making a noise and not going anywhere. I had to pull over to the side. I sat there for an hour before the emergency assistance truck came by, but they couldn’t get it started. Then the police finally came, and gave me a ride to the gas station. They said it was too dangerous to stay there.”

What a nightmare! The newly dispatched tow truck was coming from the car dealership. We waited a while at the gas station and then went to meet the tow truck on the side of the road.

It was the middle of rush hour traffic, and not a good place to be on the side of the Interstate in the dark. The traffic sped by at 70 mph only a few feet from where we were. I looked in the rear view mirror, hoping each passing car would be the tow truck. I was scared to death we would be hit, but finally I saw the beautiful flashing lights of the tow truck.

My daughter called the dealership today to see what the problem is with the car. She waited on hold for an hour, but apparently everyone was too busy to talk to her. I guess the service center has a lot of business.

Finally, they called back to say the car needed a part and a new battery. Naturally, the dust cloud poured out its usual unlucky grunge and they didn’t have the part in stock. So, she is without a car over the weekend and, maybe longer.

If you see a dark, dusty cloud floating by, it is not Pigpen. That will be my daughter in her car heading for her next disaster.

Copyright 2006 Sheila Moss

About Sheila Moss

My stories are about daily life and the funny things that happen to all of us. My columns have been published in numerous newspapers, magazines, anthologies, and websites.
This entry was posted in Automotive, Humor and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s