The reason roadside assistance is the best thing ever

So all I wanted in the world yesterday morning was to get in my car and go to work. I like my job. I was in my mental “Go-to-work” zone. I got in my car, pulled away from the curb, and noticed a vague rumbling noise from under the car, and an odd feel to the handling that I couldn’t quite identify. So I pulled over.

Well shit. I’ve got a flat.

I parked the car again and considered my options. Fortunately, Tom drove me to work instead of our usual carpool arrangement. He offered to change the tire for me too (because I can barely get my spare out of the back, much less jack up a car), but since the car was parked facing down a hill, I was less than comfortable with the idea of asking my life-partner-in-crime to get on the ground next to 2,500 pounds of steel that could shift unexpectedly off the very teeny jack on a 30% grade. Thanks, no, I value Tom’s life and personal structural integrity.

But… my certified pre-owned Beetle came with roadside assistance! Aha!

After an evening of dealing with a Volkswagen rep and a towing company rep that were dumber than a bag of hammers, a truck from King Towing in Fairfax (Fairfax? Is that the closest garage you could find, VW?) appeared around 7:30 PM. They brought a tow truck with the winch that can grip the rear wheels of a car, thus preventing it from sliding anywhere.

This is why I call professionals. They have professional equipment.

The whole thing took about half an hour, swatting at mosquitos the whole time.

And now my full-size spare is securely on the Bug and my car is once again driveable. But it’s on the right side, which is also the side I banged up a bit against a parking garage wall a few months ago. So my car looks all gimpy on the right. If you see a little green Bug matching that description, wave at me and my poor, bruised ride.

Fortunately, it’s just a very small hole in my tire, so I can fix it and reinflate it for less than $10, rather than spending hundreds of dollars getting new front tires. Maybe I’ll finally get that rubbing compound to take out the scrapes, too…

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Tiffany Baxendell Bridge is an Internet enthusiast and an incurable smartass. When not heckling the neighborhood political scene on Twitter, she can be found goofing off with her ukulele, Bollywood dancing, or obsessing about cult TV. She is That Woman With the Baby In the Bar.

Tiffany lives in Brookland with her husband Tom, son Charlie, and two high-maintenance cats. Read why Tiffany loves DC.

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