Saturday, February 05, 2005

A series of {semi} unfortunate events

Having finished class and deposited my car at home, I set out for Croxley's with a certain someone whom wishes to remain anonymous for this story. We hurdled down Herricks (not Hendricks!) road in the direction of the ale house (yes I know we were sort of on the wrong road, so the whole thing may have been my fault). Unfortunately, the largest pothole on Long Island had other plans for our evening (it was really the night, but evening sounds better). With a loud a jarring noise, our vehicle seemed to lurch and then continue to rocket down the road on its previous course until a suitable spot was found to come to rest. We had accidently arrived at a friends house, though he was not there. We inspected the damage to find a bent rim and an audibly deflating tire. Just then, who should show up with a surprised look on his face but our friend. He curiously stood gazing from his driveway as we stood laughing in the street. We were actually rather fortunate that he was there as both of our heads were screwed on backwards. He suggested we call triple A or one of it's equivalents, but they would have taken quite a while. The tire was far to flat to drive on. And so, our friend went to the gas station and called us with the name of a tow truck company. The company man arrived and proceeded to make use of our onboard tools to attempt to free the dysfunctional rim from it's hub, to no avail. He placed the wrench on one lug and attempted to jump on the tools handle to free the nut, but it did not turn. He returned to his truck and retrieved a wrench of his own. Applying force to two ends of the wrench at once, he pushed and pulled as hard as he could. At once the wrench slipped from the lug, and man and tool flew backwards. Finally, with a hand on one end and a foot on the other, the lugs were freed. After demanding quite a wad for his services, he departed, and we were left confused, laughing, and minus a considerable amount of money. We decided Croxley's was too far to travel on a spare tire... ... but apparently the cornerstone was not. We stopped at a bank so that one of us could stock up. When we got to the bar, it seemed that same one had left their wallet in the car. No matter, after a few Yuenglings, all disaster was seemingly forgotten...


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