Car trouble

I spent all last week dogsitting for a neighboring family. They were afraid that their dog, Rudy, would die of loneliness if left alone too long, so they asked me to check in on him every few hours and sleep over at their place. It was okay by me. Rudy is a sweet dog -- he can pee on command! -- and their house is only a few blocks from mine, so I biked home for dinner every day.

Nonetheless, I am happy not to be organizing my days around Rudy's needs anymore. Yesterday, to celebrate my last day of Rudycare, I met up with Ivy in San Francisco for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. It was a gorgeous day, cloudless and warm, and I borrowed my dad's car and parked by the beach and then walked to Golden Gate Park. Ives and I bought pupusas, laughed at a dog wearing a helmet, swooned over Mavis Staples and Aimee Mann, caught pieces of Neko Case, and danced to Amadou & Mariam as the moon rose behind the trees.

The night went downhill from there.

I drove Ivy to the BART station, and as soon as I pulled away from the curb, the car started making loud grinding noises. The car was off balance, slightly tilted to the right. Flat tire? I panicked and pulled over to the side of the road to try and think what to do. Yes, it was a flat, and Ivy was gone, my phone was dead. I was at least an hour from home.

So I got out of the car and looked around. I was in the Mission district -- luckily for me, a gentrified part of it. I flagged down the first guy I saw. He pointed me in the direction of the nearest gas station and let me borrow his phone to call my dad, who was upset about his car and totally irate about my phone. I told him I'd call right back from the gas station.

I walked several blocks without finding it. Stopped in a liquor store to ask for directions. The guy working there told me that the nearest gas station was a mile away.

He let me use his cell phone to make just one call (to my dad) because the battery was low. Then I had to find another phone to call a tow truck. I went to a tiny donut shop, where a woman gave me 3 quarters for a pay phone. "Where's the pay phone?" I asked, and she pointed down the street at nothing in particular.

So I went to another liquor store and called a tow truck. I asked if I could hang out there until it arrived... nope, unfortunately, they were closing. So, back to the car.

Twenty minutes later a man arrived to change the tire. He fixed the car quickly and gave me a discount, and I was grateful and gave him a big tip. "To buy a red bull with?" he joked. He was finishing up a 12-hour shift.

I drove home and slept in my own bed for the first time all week and almost cried with relief.