I Shouldn’t be Allowed to Roadtrip

I had to go home for a funeral on Friday, and my usual driver (aka Keith) was unavailable.  So it was up to me to get my sister and I safely home. 

The trip started uneventfully enough.  Until I got about 1/2 way home.  I saw a white police cruiser come up behind me.  I was going a little fast, but not THAT fast so I mostly just watched him for entertainment purposes.  When he got along side of me, he suddenly turned on his lights and looked directly at me!  Crap.  I slow down and pull over to the side of the road.  But the officer doesn’t stop!  He keeps going with his lights on.  Now I’m really confused.  I’m pretty sure I was getting pulled over but now I’m not sure.  I don’t want to leave for fear of leaving the scene of the crime. 

We eventually decide to keep going and we passed the officer about five minutes later – he had pulled over another car.  I guess we weren’t his primary target after all and he just wanted us to know that he knew we were going a little fast. 

Once we make it home, we have a short turn around before we needed to leave again.  But mom wants to go to the bank and get her car washed.  In the interest of saving time, I offer to drop mom off at the bank and take her car to get a wash, then come back and pick her up.  I’m such a generous daughter. 

So we start the plan and about 1/2 way through the car wash, I notice her car is yelling at me.  Yep, she has one of those keyless starters and mom took the key with her to the bank.  I’m now afraid.  What if I can’t get the car started again at the end of the wash?  And there is a large truck 5 feet behind me.  I have a very narrow window of time before they are going to manually push me out of the wash bumper to bumper.  I’m calling mom, mom is trying to cross 5 lanes of traffic to get to me, slight amounts of panic …  But the panic was for naught and the car quietly came back to life and allowed me to exit the car wash. 

I know that car washes are not really friends of our family.  There was the time when mom drove over a freshly painted road line and tried to wash it off at the car wash but she was already a little flustered and when the automatic car mover thing stopped working, she panicked and floored it through the rest of the wash, not waiting for each cycle to finish.  Picture the faces of the car wash employees who saw a car come dashing out of the other end of the wash covered in suds. 

And then there was the time that I wanted to know what was happening in front of me and turned on my windshield wipers.  Just before the large, revolving brush thing came down on my car, snapping my wipers in two. 

Like I said, not our friends.

Anyway, the rest of the afternoon was uneventful and we got on the road to head back to Chicago.  Just as we passed the last exit in 20 miles, my gas light came on, with the warning that I only had 20 miles of gas in my tank.  My sisters say that I am no fun when I am worried.  And I was really worried!

But we made it, with 2 miles to spares (not sure how that math worked out).  Then I couldn’t figure out how to get the gas tank open.  It’s not my fault that I rarely drive and it’s even rarer when I drive AND have to fill up the tank.  Of course, my sisters felt the need to contact Keith and let him know my difficulties.  (Which leads me to question their loyalty …)

Eventually we made it home.  And I think it will be awhile before I brave taking the car out on my own.

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