So on Friday, a good friend of mine and I decided that we were going to go back home for the weekend. Nothing new, nothing too extreme. Instead of taking I-35 and going through traffic, we planned on taking the toll road. Driving back to our home town takes at the maximum 2 hours, and that’s if it was raining down fireballs from heaven and the zombie apocalypses was happening.
Or maybe a local outbreak of Ebola.
Anyway, so we’re coasting down the road jamming out to country music when suddenly , the truck stalls and we start coasting at around 55. This wouldn’t be bad if other cars weren’t going 80 MPH! I literally saw my life flash before my eyes and I was sure that I wasn’t going to survive and that this was the day that I was going to meet my maker.
However, I did survive. We managed to coast our little truck to the shoulder of the road before stopping completely. After a few minutes of hardcore stressing out, we decided to try to start the truck again. With a couple of nice words and silent prayers we got the truck to start.
For about five minutes.
We hadn’t even made it to the next exit when we felt the truck starting to stop again. So once more, we pulled over and this time we knew that we were stuck. I would like to say that no tears were shed, but that would be a lie. All I wanted was to go home and not sweat like a cow, but it seemed that neither of those things would be happening in the near future.
After a few calls to the insurance company and a tow-truck, we were about to be rescued. Or so we thought, we waited for almost 3 hours on the shoulder of the road waiting for a truck that never came… Trying not to let our frustrations take over, we decided that we were going to have a jam session in the car, and play I Spy.
Long story short, I spent a majority of my Friday on the road, and I learned that if I’m really determined I can hold my bladder for a pretty long time. Don’t judge me! 🙂