A Cold Night (Pt. 1)

Of course my car broke down tonight, when the temperature sets a new record low. It's five degrees and snowing and of course that's when the thing decides to overheat. What kind of logic is that? Stupid Mercedes.

Of course it was my choice to buy a thirty year old car, but it's so trendy, it has so much soul. Not that it does me any good right now on the side of the road with the snow falling and hot water dripping out of the radiator and hissing on the pavement. After only a couple of weeks and this happens. At least I have AAA and an iPhone to keep me busy in the meantime.

And scarves. Crazy me who has to always be prepared for everything, I have a blanket, an extra jacket, and don't think I'm crazy but three extra scarves in the backseat along with a cute beanie cap. That's me, always prepared. The hat and one of the scarves even match the color of the car. Always fashionable so I don't embarrass myself in front of the tow truck guy. That's me.

Not like it would matter anyway since I'm sure he'll be some fat, ugly redneck bumpkin. Sometimes I forget I'm in Georgia living in Atlanta but trust me, when you need a mechanic or a tow truck driver, you remember you're in Georgia. That or a Huddle House. That reminds you where you are too.

I guess tonight everyone's broken down though, because the tow truck guy is running an hour late. Not that I'm cold or anything. Five degrees isn't exactly super comfy inside a drafty old Mercedes and those trendy ass yellow hubcaps aren't doing me any good either. The idiot probably got lost and can't find the right road. I'm sure AAA only hires the best of the best. Goddammit, why does Angry Birds have to get so hard after a while?

“Excuse me, 'maam? Are you Rachel?”

“Ah!”

Of course he sneaks up on me! Of course now I see the headlights back there but Jesus, just sneaking up on me out of the dark and tapping on the window with his voice all muffled through the glass. And me a young girl stranded on the side of the road late at night! Like it wouldn't scare the shit out of me.

Can't see him out the window anyway with the frost and of course I have to start the car up to do that. Stupid jerk, taking so long. Probably some dumb fucking yokel with a beer gut and buck teeth. God why do I live in Georgia?

“Yes, I'm Rachel.”

Oh . . . He's cute. And a ginger. Kind of looks like a hipster too. . .

* * *

I admit being a tow truck driver isn't exactly my dream job but you know, having a degree in Liberal Arts doesn't always turn out so well. Still, it's not exactly what I had planned when I went to Tulane. I kind of hoped I'd be doing something a little more rewarding than finding idiot old women with blown engines for AAA.

But I had to find something. It was either this or go back to live with my parents and fuck that. Decatur can kiss my ass and there's no way I'm going back there as long as I have a pulse. Still the job isn't always so bad at that. It pays enough for me to not worry too much about the rent and it keeps me in PBRs with a little left over to work on my bike.

Nights like this though, it's hard to figure out why I'm doing it. Of course my shift pops up on the coldest night in Atlanta in twenty years and of course it's the late shift. It always is. Will be for a while too, me being the new guy. Heaven forbid we take Bubba's prized 8-4 shifts. No, give the shitty ones to the new fish. Nobody likes that “red head smart ass” anyway. Let him work the night when the weather is so cold everyone's breaking down and there's a two hour wait. Let him deal with the fussy old women yelling at him for being behind schedule.

Oh, who am I kidding? This life sucks. I'm single and I live alone and I drive a tow truck. Just guess how easy it is to find dates when your answer to that old “And what do you do?” question is this. The only women who'll talk to you after that work at gas stations or late night diners. Not that there's anything wrong with those people, mind you, but I don't quite jive with the “I have two kids from two other guys” thing. Guess I'm just closed minded.

Maybe one night I'll be towing some woman and get run over on the side of the road. That's the best case scenario these days.

And then tonight, after all these fussy old bitties and grumpy old men with squinty little glasses and holier than thou bullshit, I realize I forgot one of the pick ups. And of course she's called the dispatch like four times and I'm two hours late from what they told her. Guess who gets docked for that? Answer: It ain't Bubba.

Probably some shriveled up old shrew who hasn't checked the oil on her 10 year old Hyundai since Bush was president and can't understand why the engine suddenly shits the bed. Either that or an asshole in a business suit who left his over head light on and the battery's dead so he's going to yell at me about how these “new cars” are such pieces of shit. Yep, you can see how excited I am about the next pick up. Goddamn cold weather. . .

Huh. Dispatch says it's an '83 Mercedes 300 though. That's kind of interesting. Probably some geezer who bought it new.

There it is. Cool shade of yellow too. And a diesel. Always thought those were pretty cool since I had a friend convert one to veggie oil. Oh, and those hub cabs are pretty bitching too. That's a pretty cool car. Of course it'll have some stuck up old bitch in it, so who cares.

Can't see anything through the window though. Maybe the person already got tired and left. Oh, I guess there is someone in there. . . Hope they're warm.

“Excuse me, 'maam” Are you Rachel?”

“Ah!”

Ha, must've startled the old bitch. Let's see if she can figure out how to get the window open.

“Yes, I'm Rachel.”

Oh. . . She’s Asian. And cute. Really cute. . .