LOL MY CAR
YOU GUYS I LEGIT THINK MY CAR IS ON A LONG-CON QUEST TO KILL ME a la CHRISTINE.
This time, instead of my accelerator NOT WORKING suddenly, it WENT ALL THE WAY DOWN AND STAYED THERE!
okay so let me back up, because obviously for every minor misfortune in my life, I have to overanalyze everything and confuse myself about the nature of existence even more.
I guess I should start by saying that I did feel a little weird about driving today before I left, but I did anyway, because honestly, I always feel a little weird about driving. Driving is modern society's like, blacksmithing or chariot races. A legitimately, highly dangerous activity that we all partake in for the mere reason that we need to, or we've decided the risk is worth it. And yes, the vast majority of people don't die in massive car crashes. But I do feel like the vast majority of people have experienced something like I did today. Or maybe not, maybe I just have really shit luck.
Anyway, I had to drive anyway, because I had work (seriously, why can my car never break down on the way FROM work instead of TO work) so I got in, and there was just like, this butterfly effect series of events...okay, so I'm at like Sepulveda/Victory, in the middle lane, and I see the right lane is open. I hesitate because I can't remember if people can park in the right lane at this time of day or not, but I go anyway because it's usually okay. Some guy cuts me off from a drive way.
These kinds of little things happen almost constantly, as any driver (or really, any liver of life) knows, these minor little sleights and inconveniences that alone are negligible but eventually add up, you know? So I'm like "guh," but I let it go, and when the light turns green, we're off.
Guy goes like 25 mph in a 35 zone. This is also infuriating. The guy behind me who was tailgating bails, and I decide to ride it out because no matter how frustrated I get, I try my very hardest not to zip around like an asshole because it's dangerous and I don't like drawing attention to myself.
Obviously, I fail this a lot, which we'll see in a minute.
Anyway, driving 10 under the speed limit for like, half a mile isn't that big a deal.
Unless it makes me miss a green. Which it did.
So I'm sitting at the 405/Victory light, stewing, praying this guy isn't going to turn right and get on the freeway in front of me.
He does.
And now, all of those little sleights and inconveniences are balling into ACTION. Not even anything extreme, I'm just planning to get around him as soon as we both get on the freeway.
So I press the gas on the on ramp.
I press it maybe a little bit harder than I normally would.
I release, and the pedal stays down.
So obviously now I'm in crisis mode, and unlike last time this happened, my mind did not go to that wonderful place of contrast and clarity where every action I need to take is illuminated before me like a well-lit path at midnight. Now I was like "uh..." If I rode the break while the pedal was down, I cruised along at around 50, which seemed okay until I got to the next exit, which was what I did.
But I didn't put my emergency blinkers on, I didn't put it into neutral because that made the engine sound really scary, I didn't know what to do. And when I got to the top of the exit, I realized I couldn't stop to make a right turn.
I just had to go.
That could have been so much worse, guys. It was like a video game, where you try it out just to see what your potential success rate could be. And there's always kind of a gleeful nihilism when it turns out you fail and crash horribly.
I made it, thank God. No one was coming, thank God. Apparently on Burbank right around there is like, a nature preserve, with walking and bike trails, and it was like 2:00 so traffic wasn't TERRIBLE. I mean hell, for LA it was LIGHT. I pulled off to the side of the road, put it in neutral, killed the engine, and started making the five or so frantic phone calls I needed to.
idk, I wasn't as terrified this time, maybe just b/c traffic was lighter, and even in the midst of the crisis I felt like I had it under control, even though looking back, I really didn't. I put it into "1" and "2" (whatever those are) hoping it would fix the problem, but it didn't. I probably should have just pulled onto the shoulder on the freeway. If I fucked up my breaks or engine or anything...
So I called my dad because he's my go-to when I'm in panic-oh-god-oh-god-tell-me-it's-going-to-be-okay mode, but of course he didn't answer because he never does when that happens, then I called work to tell them, then I called Triple A. And they got here in like 20 mins. this time.
He actually fixed the problem. I mean, during that 20 minutes, I was in more than just DEAR LORD I COULD HAVE DIED OR EVEN WORSE KILLED SOMEBODY mode, but there was also that slightly less visceral "I just got my car checked out, what the fuck could this be? Oh god is it the transmission? Isn't that like super expensive to fix?"
But the tow truck guy looked under the hood, found some random piece of tubing lodged in my accelerator cable, which kept the little wire tight, so the engine was reading me as flooring it. He took out the tube and everything was hunky dory.
The way he described it too, it was like, that little cable could have gotten lodged anywhere. It just happened to get lodged in the absolute worst place it could have. He was like "It shouldn't have happened," but then he told a story about how a little pebble can hit the exact weakest place on a wheel and make the tire flat.
I said it was the perfect storm of automotive misfortune. But really, was it? The car broke, but I didn't crash, I didn't hurt anybody, and as far as I'm aware the car is okay to drive.
It just could have been so much worse.
I got it towed anyway, because one of the few remaining Daddy-paid-for-it services I get is AAA free towing, and I figured the people who fixed my car would know better than me what that random piece of tubing was for.
Of course, as the tow truck guy drove me down Burbank so I could walk home, I started wondering if that was the best idea. There was the insinuation that the shop had replaced that tube and just left the old one there floating around loose, hence the crisis, and if they fucked up it probably wasn't smart letting them diagnose what fucked up. But idk, we have a decent relationship and I guess if I have to choose between cynicism and blind trust, I go with blind trust when I can.
I hope I don't have to change that after today.
But idk, I might have done something else if anything truly destructive happened. If I hit someone, or if my engine exploded. It was smoking a little bit when I finally got it parked. God I hope I didn't fuck anything up.
Anyway, that's the story of how I missed my first fucking Kaplan class ever. I was half an hour late once due solely to my dumbfuckery, but I'm still pissed.
All of this happened, of course, in an otherwise really good day. My boss texted me to say that CBS *finally* got the go-ahead to hire someone, so the guy would be calling me for another interview soon, and I got some nice feedback on my writing. I also got to sleep in, and for some reason today I decided to actually GET UP at the end of a REM cycle rather than surrendering to my usual "ugh but it's only 9:30 and I don't have to be anywhere" impulses. Then I called Katie because it was her birthday and that was nice.
idk you guys. I will not stop hating driving anywhere because of shit like this. Even if I ever get rich and buy a new car...I still think my car is good. It's not the shittiness of my car that is causing these problems. The first time it was just like a six-inch piece of metal, wait I still might have that picture...
Here it is:
And this time it was like, a twelve-inch piece of tube. COULDN'T BOTH OF THESE THINGS HAPPEN IN A BRAND NEW CAR TOO?
I fucking hate driving. I HOPE THE WORLD SOMEDAY IS ALL REMOTE WORKPLACES. I CAN TEACH FROM HOME.
This time, instead of my accelerator NOT WORKING suddenly, it WENT ALL THE WAY DOWN AND STAYED THERE!
okay so let me back up, because obviously for every minor misfortune in my life, I have to overanalyze everything and confuse myself about the nature of existence even more.
I guess I should start by saying that I did feel a little weird about driving today before I left, but I did anyway, because honestly, I always feel a little weird about driving. Driving is modern society's like, blacksmithing or chariot races. A legitimately, highly dangerous activity that we all partake in for the mere reason that we need to, or we've decided the risk is worth it. And yes, the vast majority of people don't die in massive car crashes. But I do feel like the vast majority of people have experienced something like I did today. Or maybe not, maybe I just have really shit luck.
Anyway, I had to drive anyway, because I had work (seriously, why can my car never break down on the way FROM work instead of TO work) so I got in, and there was just like, this butterfly effect series of events...okay, so I'm at like Sepulveda/Victory, in the middle lane, and I see the right lane is open. I hesitate because I can't remember if people can park in the right lane at this time of day or not, but I go anyway because it's usually okay. Some guy cuts me off from a drive way.
These kinds of little things happen almost constantly, as any driver (or really, any liver of life) knows, these minor little sleights and inconveniences that alone are negligible but eventually add up, you know? So I'm like "guh," but I let it go, and when the light turns green, we're off.
Guy goes like 25 mph in a 35 zone. This is also infuriating. The guy behind me who was tailgating bails, and I decide to ride it out because no matter how frustrated I get, I try my very hardest not to zip around like an asshole because it's dangerous and I don't like drawing attention to myself.
Obviously, I fail this a lot, which we'll see in a minute.
Anyway, driving 10 under the speed limit for like, half a mile isn't that big a deal.
Unless it makes me miss a green. Which it did.
So I'm sitting at the 405/Victory light, stewing, praying this guy isn't going to turn right and get on the freeway in front of me.
He does.
And now, all of those little sleights and inconveniences are balling into ACTION. Not even anything extreme, I'm just planning to get around him as soon as we both get on the freeway.
So I press the gas on the on ramp.
I press it maybe a little bit harder than I normally would.
I release, and the pedal stays down.
So obviously now I'm in crisis mode, and unlike last time this happened, my mind did not go to that wonderful place of contrast and clarity where every action I need to take is illuminated before me like a well-lit path at midnight. Now I was like "uh..." If I rode the break while the pedal was down, I cruised along at around 50, which seemed okay until I got to the next exit, which was what I did.
But I didn't put my emergency blinkers on, I didn't put it into neutral because that made the engine sound really scary, I didn't know what to do. And when I got to the top of the exit, I realized I couldn't stop to make a right turn.
I just had to go.
That could have been so much worse, guys. It was like a video game, where you try it out just to see what your potential success rate could be. And there's always kind of a gleeful nihilism when it turns out you fail and crash horribly.
I made it, thank God. No one was coming, thank God. Apparently on Burbank right around there is like, a nature preserve, with walking and bike trails, and it was like 2:00 so traffic wasn't TERRIBLE. I mean hell, for LA it was LIGHT. I pulled off to the side of the road, put it in neutral, killed the engine, and started making the five or so frantic phone calls I needed to.
idk, I wasn't as terrified this time, maybe just b/c traffic was lighter, and even in the midst of the crisis I felt like I had it under control, even though looking back, I really didn't. I put it into "1" and "2" (whatever those are) hoping it would fix the problem, but it didn't. I probably should have just pulled onto the shoulder on the freeway. If I fucked up my breaks or engine or anything...
So I called my dad because he's my go-to when I'm in panic-oh-god-oh-god-tell-me-it's-going-to-be-okay mode, but of course he didn't answer because he never does when that happens, then I called work to tell them, then I called Triple A. And they got here in like 20 mins. this time.
He actually fixed the problem. I mean, during that 20 minutes, I was in more than just DEAR LORD I COULD HAVE DIED OR EVEN WORSE KILLED SOMEBODY mode, but there was also that slightly less visceral "I just got my car checked out, what the fuck could this be? Oh god is it the transmission? Isn't that like super expensive to fix?"
But the tow truck guy looked under the hood, found some random piece of tubing lodged in my accelerator cable, which kept the little wire tight, so the engine was reading me as flooring it. He took out the tube and everything was hunky dory.
The way he described it too, it was like, that little cable could have gotten lodged anywhere. It just happened to get lodged in the absolute worst place it could have. He was like "It shouldn't have happened," but then he told a story about how a little pebble can hit the exact weakest place on a wheel and make the tire flat.
I said it was the perfect storm of automotive misfortune. But really, was it? The car broke, but I didn't crash, I didn't hurt anybody, and as far as I'm aware the car is okay to drive.
It just could have been so much worse.
I got it towed anyway, because one of the few remaining Daddy-paid-for-it services I get is AAA free towing, and I figured the people who fixed my car would know better than me what that random piece of tubing was for.
Of course, as the tow truck guy drove me down Burbank so I could walk home, I started wondering if that was the best idea. There was the insinuation that the shop had replaced that tube and just left the old one there floating around loose, hence the crisis, and if they fucked up it probably wasn't smart letting them diagnose what fucked up. But idk, we have a decent relationship and I guess if I have to choose between cynicism and blind trust, I go with blind trust when I can.
I hope I don't have to change that after today.
But idk, I might have done something else if anything truly destructive happened. If I hit someone, or if my engine exploded. It was smoking a little bit when I finally got it parked. God I hope I didn't fuck anything up.
Anyway, that's the story of how I missed my first fucking Kaplan class ever. I was half an hour late once due solely to my dumbfuckery, but I'm still pissed.
All of this happened, of course, in an otherwise really good day. My boss texted me to say that CBS *finally* got the go-ahead to hire someone, so the guy would be calling me for another interview soon, and I got some nice feedback on my writing. I also got to sleep in, and for some reason today I decided to actually GET UP at the end of a REM cycle rather than surrendering to my usual "ugh but it's only 9:30 and I don't have to be anywhere" impulses. Then I called Katie because it was her birthday and that was nice.
idk you guys. I will not stop hating driving anywhere because of shit like this. Even if I ever get rich and buy a new car...I still think my car is good. It's not the shittiness of my car that is causing these problems. The first time it was just like a six-inch piece of metal, wait I still might have that picture...
Here it is:
And this time it was like, a twelve-inch piece of tube. COULDN'T BOTH OF THESE THINGS HAPPEN IN A BRAND NEW CAR TOO?
I fucking hate driving. I HOPE THE WORLD SOMEDAY IS ALL REMOTE WORKPLACES. I CAN TEACH FROM HOME.