Saturday, July 24, 2010

Feed me Cyanide

On july 8th i left Bremerton for Greybull, Wyoming. It was supposed to be a 4 day trip. At about 2:30 am on the 22nd I made it back home.

Taking my roomate back to WyJammin is about a 14 hour drive. somewhere around 4 hours into the trip, 20 miles from Spokane Washington on interstate 90, the driveline fell out of my truck. And by fell, I mean it dropped out of the front U-Joint, dug itself into the road and polevaulted my fucking chevy two feet into the air, and on the way out managed to destroy the gas tank, and finally rolled across the freeway creating a motocross jump for a scion hatchback.

After gathering the twisted remains of american engineering genius from the road, and waiting about 45 minutes for a good samaritan that never came, I decided that the truck should be pushed toward the nearest town. with my roomate steering i provided the push downhill to the shitfarm down the hill. after maybe 50 yards the truck was moving too fast, and for the next mile or so i rode on the bumper holding the tailgate like marty mcfly going to school on his skateboard.

then the truck started to slow down. minutes later, i'm pushing this god damned S-10 uphill in 90 degree heat, watching the road go by like a route recci from abu ghurayb to ramadi. not too long though, as a gigantic SUV packed with mountain bikers from some granola bar commercial stopped and hooked us up to their tow strap, dragging my sorry ass vehicle into the town. from there i used my contacts (my dad) to get a tow-truck to haul the shit heap to a gateway to hell called Cheney. after assuring me the truck would be ready the next day, the mechanic shop / tow truck business dropped us off at a motel conveniently located 10 feet from the local railroad.

after getting drunk and passing out, we awoke the next morning to the news that the truck would not be ready, and indeed was going to take 4 more days to fix. So my roomate, running out of his epilepsy meds, caught a bus to wyoming, leaving everything he owned in the back of my truck, which was recovering at the Banjo approved auto garage. 4 more days of watching TV, eating the local cuisine of hamburgers smaller than mcdonalds, whacking by bag, and a bottle of Orange Jubilee a night, and at last i get the call that the the truck is ready. So i walk down to the shop, and lo and behold the fucking truck needs another day. Fuckface the scandinavian has either ordered the wrong part, or the hillbillys he ordered it from put the wrong shit in the mail.
one more night.

The next day the truck is ready, I pick it up, and charge across the western plains of fuck you I hate everything at this point. Since I missed the TWO FUCKING DAYS A WEEK the drivers license place is open, i have to stay an extra 5 days in wyoming, doing jack shit. I get the license, and the breathalizer i require to be hooked to my fucking ignition because I went too big and got a DUI in May, and recklessly fire my tired ass back towards Washington like a 50 cal round.

Total damage: $900 for the driveline and gas tank, $270 for the motel (and paying the desk jockey to drive my roomate to the bus station), about $100 for food, smokes and booze, $260 for the ignition lock and drivers license, and about $250 in gas money.

God Damn It.