You get pulled over. Here's the exchange.
"It's ok, officer. I just threw some chocolate out of my car window. That's all..."
"Oh, well alright then. I mean, it was just sugary chocolate. I'm sure the ants will take care of it."
Just make sure you're not lying about it. That officer might head back to find the snickers bar you discarded, only to discover he's trying to eat a cigarette butt or your old cell phone. Way to go, jerkface! You fucked it up for everybody.
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So check this out. I have AAA. Or Triple A. Or however you would type that in a blog. The card looks a little something like this:
my new embarassment card, from AAA!
The purpose for AAA is essentially to keep you protected if you're in west Texas, stranded on a desert highway, with 4 flat tires and an engine fire. Or perhaps in the ghetto and your tires have been shot out, or maybe you've punctured your gas tank while driving through unnavigatable ravines. Or maybe your tires have been burned off because you've driven through the 7th layer of hell, I don't know... Either way, it's really for extreme cases, if you get my drift. It only costs like $50 a year, and it's some piece of mind that you can purchase rather cheaply.
The other day I had a flat tire. Well, lets just say I knew I would have a flat tire. It wasn't flat just yet, but I could hear air escaping through the nail that was stuck in it. Therefore, it would be flat soon so all I could do was wait. I had driven somewhere to do something and ran into Justin. He's like "what are you doing later?" and I told him how I was waiting for my tire to go flat so I could change it. The conversation progressed, and eventually I admitted to him I was going to just call AAA to change it because I hadn't gotten my money's worth out of them this year. Which was true. Actually I haven't called them in like 2 years.
Justin went on to add that I'd be losing "man-points" if I couldn't change the tire myself. I told him it wasn't that I couldn't change it myself. Believe me... with the idiotic driving I've done in my youth, I've changed my fair share of tires. It was simply that I didn't want to change it myself. Plus, I've been paying these assholes for nothing for the last 2 years, and I wanted to get a little love back. The conversation lingered until I admitted I really didn't have any man-points to begin with. I got into my soon-to-be-flat-tired vehicle and rode off into the sunset.
On the way home, I called the 800 number to tell them I had a flat and I needed it changed. They went through the motions and told me someone would be there within the hour. I parked the truck in the driveway, and went inside to sit my happy ass on the couch and watch tv. About 45 minutes later, I heard a diesel engine pull into the driveway. I went out to present my card to the AAA man so I could get back to whatever non-manly activity I'd been immersed in. That's when about the worst thing that could possibly happen to me in this situation reared it's ugly head.
The Triple A man... or what the Triple A man was supposed to be... was a woman. A little black lady, probably about 45 years old or so, was standing at the rear of the truck. I didn't know what to do. I was ashamed. I was just going to turn and walk back in the house but I didn't want her to think I was a racist or something. I wanted to be like "Oh, I was just playing... That was my kids making a prank call to you guys..." or maybe tell her it was the wrong house, and that tire only looked flat because it was a special kind of look-flat tire they just started making.
I was now in negative man-point land, and this lady knew it. I muttered something about how my jack was broken to her, and she smugly smiled. "Dammit, it could be broken! You don't know!", I thought. Fuck... Come on, AAA. Why not send a girl scout to change the tire next time, to add more insult to injury? Maybe you could hire infants or amputees to change tires. I'm expecting some guy who really digs changing tires to show up. You guys send a woman?!
She opened the back ot the truck and pulled out this air hose. Then pulled out this wheeled jack, hooked the hose up to it, and hydrolically lifted the truck in 3 seconds. The compressor was loud enough to attract my neighbors to the windows, just to make sure everyone knew a female was changing a man's truck tire. I was covering my face like criminals do on TV when the police are escorting them from jail to a police car. I wished I had a halloween mask to hide my identity. Like a hockey mask or something, but that I guess that would be kind of bizarre.
The hose was eventually placed into an impact wrench, and the lady changed the tire like a pit crew in NASCAR. I was impressed with the speed. I thanked her for helping me, and told her I'd get that jack fixed. I then waited for her to call me a pussy boy and push me on the ground, but it didn't happen.
I'll of course be renewing my AAA man-points eraser program again in April. But next time I have a flat tire, I'll push the truck behind a building or into my backyard before I call anyone.
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