figured leaving at 10 AM would give me plenty of time to arrive in Reston by 8 PM. The mapquest directions said about 9 hours, so I wasn’t being too outrageous. And the drive goes pretty well over all. I sing along with my music, cruise with the window down. There’s a traffic jam on fresh tar. Yuck. It is never hotter than when you are driving in a traffic jam on fresh tar. You get the tar fumes, the car fumes and the heat baking off the sun. I also got a driver’s sunburn on my jauntily cocked window arm.
And then my car breaks down. First I noticed the high pitched squeaking off the concrete walls of the intra-city highway. Then my temperature gauge climbed way to quickly to the top. A few small puffs of smoke escaped before I’d pulled over.
I turn off the car and sit in my car for a minute or two. Shit, it’s after five o’clock. It’s friday. No mechanic is going to be open. Well, maybe it’s just a coolant leak. I dig out my water and pop the hood.
There’s more than enough coolant. In fact, it looks like it’s been backed up.
The water pump is dead.
Well, it’s just the water pump. Should be a pretty quick surgery. I’m still hopeful. I call AAA. But their roadside emergency assistance number doesn’t click through. And then I realize that I have absolutely no freaking clue where I am. I think I’m still in Connecticut, but there’s a sign for Greenwhich Ave. Isn’t Greenwhich Village in New York? I call 411 and get many numbers, all of which, for some weird reason, lead back to the same surly guy who “doesn’t do highways.” I sit in my car and wait. Then I notice it.
An accident up ahead.
Oh joy of joys! There’s a cop or two up there. I run up and flag one down and he comes over and calls for a tow guy and I happily walk back to my car. The tow truck comes up half an hour or so later and he’s a sketchy guy instantly. But he’s friendly enough and he’s towing my car. He asks where it’s going.