Tag: emergencies

Automotive Tips From The Age Of The Model T

I think there is one thing Everyone goes Through when They get Their Drivers License beside suddenly having A Lot of New Friends (who all seem to need a Ride). What I am Referring to is the Parental Tutorial that’s usually Instigated by One’s Father on being a Responsible Driver.

I remember My Father telling Me to Have a Bag of Cat Litter incase I got stuck  especially in the Snow, Change the Oil very 5,000 even I Didn’t think it was Important, Keep Road Flares in the Trunk incase You break down on the Side of The Road Somewhere, Remember to Check the Oil, Periodically Check Your Spare Tire (because the Last thing You need is to get a fucking flat and THEN discovering  Your Spare is Flat Too), Wear Your Seatbelt No Matter What, Always have Jumper Cables in the Car, and to Maintain the Windshield Wipers (there’s No Point in Windshield Wipers if They’re Old, Ratty, and You can’t see Shit.) among Other Things.

Since Cars have Been Around since 1885 it lead Me to Wonder what the Tips for being a Responsible Driver would have been. I found a Few from 1903 through 1919 and Proved to be Way More Amusing than I ever Anticipated, and For that Reason Here They Are:

The Original Old School Hints for Happy Motoring:

  1. Your Engine is Overheated if Steam Rises when You Spit on it. Better Check Your Radiator.
  2. To Remove Dirt and Water from Gas Strain It Through a Chamois (a Type of Soft pliable and Porous Leather made from Sheep or Lamb Skin).
  3. Dump a few Oatmeal Flakes into a Leaking Radiator. They will Swell and Fill the Hole. In Emergencies, Dried Horse Manure will Also Work, and is Usually Available.
  4. Chewing Gum will mend a Leaky Fuel Line.
  5. Pump a Mixture of Chopped Feathers and Hot Molasses into a Worn Tire to Extend its Life. Messy incase of a Blowout.
  6. Guns are No Longer Needed Except in Certain Far Eastern States.
  7. Celluloid Windows are Best Cleaned with Vinegar.
  8. A Windshield Rubbed with a Sliced Onion will Stay Clear on Rainy Days.
  9. A Traveler’s Emergency Equipment should include a Rubber Lap Robe, Goggles, Tow Rope, Pump, Tire-Patching Kit, Canvas Bucket, Cans of GAs and Oil, Block and Tackle, Compass, Tire Chains, Small Tent and Sleeping Bags.
  10. Some States Have Speed Limits so Drive with Care.

Thanks For Reading,

  By Les Sober

(Posted@12:55am)

The Stranded and The Strange

My Wife and I were on our way home Sunday evening, and 2 hours from home (just short of the State Line) started acting up.

We stopped briefly to let the Dog make a shirt in the dirt, and when we got back in the car wouldn’t turn over though it was trying. So we luckily added Road Side Assistance to my Auto Insurance Policy so I didn’t feel real shitty about the car being problematic. We called the Insurance Company only to find out that they can’t tow the car until tomorrow, AND they had a asinine NO DOGS in Truck Rule. What that meant was I could get my car home yet my Wife and I were still stuck looking for a way home.

There is always one person you can rely on and thats your Mother. Unless Your Me. I couldn’t reach my Mother by phone or text, so I decided to continue texting. She finally responded by informing me she couldn’t talk (though she was made well aware that this was an emergency situation) but hey good luck and keep your chin up. Apparently what I have learned along the way this time is my ENTIRE FUCKING FAMILY HAS NO IDEA WHAT THE DEFINITION OF AN EMERGENCY IS. They seem to think an Emergency is the exact same as a Favor. At that point I stopped trying to communicate with her.

Being that we live in a rather Rural area there are NO BUSES, TRAINS, SUB WAYS or TAXI/CAR SERVICES. All I could think of was to try Uber in spite of my opinion of Uber which was and is its a good idea on Paper, BUT with the World’s shittiest Real Life Application. Since like I said we live out in the fucking Woods there was only ONE SINGLE UBER DRIVER in the ENTIRE COUNTY. We scheduled the Uber but when she showed up she immediately informed us she WOULD NOT take us to our actual destination because it was to far for her. I already being an Uber Hater felt even more justified in my disgust of all things Uber.

Since as I said having limited choices of just one We took the Uber Driver up on her offer to give us a lift about an hour down the road which was better than nothing which we had in spades. The ride ended when We ended up AT South of the Boarder the Timelessly Racist Truck Stop meets a Motel, Mall, and Attractions (i.e. Live Reptiles and the Famous Sombrero Tower). The Uber Driver was absolutely awe struck by all the Tacky Tourist Neon Lighting that lit up South of The Boarder like a Poor White Trash version of Vegas.

Again I started an attempt once again to try and get a ride from my Mother who continued to ask if we had though of, and then went on to describe every fucking scenario to see if we actually had. Desperately I tried not to curse Her out for her interpretation of what an Emergency is. All I’m saying is if you fucking fall off a fucking ladder, and call 911 your not asking them for a favor.

My Mother is fixated then on utterly pointless points saying We should get a Hotel room, and I told her that the RIDE emergency would be the SAME the next morning as WE WOULD STILL BE STRANDED. There wouldn’t be any New Options springing up over fucking night or anything.

The Uber Driver started to feel a bit guilty, but I think she actually felt shitty about dropping us off still up the Shit’s Creek without a Paddle. Well whatever her reasoning was she offered to drive us another 46 miles down the road to the next town putting us about 100 miles or so from Our Home Office. We obviously agree and thank her because the cliche was ringing true in “Something is better than nothing”.

The Driver called to Uber Office because it wouldn’t allow her to sign on and accept the ride. She proceeded to launch into a interesting debate with the Uber Office Rep that lasted the better part of an hour. She was one of those cell phone types that likes to talk on her phone while its on speaker so I was privy to BOTH sides of the Argument as it were.

Long story short Our Driver had crossed a State Line which made Her exempt from accepting Uber Calls, and there was absolutely NO WAY around it. This was kind of fucked as our Driver pointed out the original call Uber sent her way was over a state line so why would they NOW make an issue of it (Point being bottom line some Asshole at Uber has no fucking clue about Geography local or otherwise, and is apparently too stupid to utilize a GPS or an Old School Paper Map)

When it was all said and done We settled on the Ride down the Road for $20 cash and called it a night. FUCK UBER (Not the Drivers mind you). As We got in the car I shot my Mother a text letting her know the current state of affairs, and she texted me back to give her a call when we arrived at our next destination. Our next destination was the Red Roofie Inn we had our Uber Driver drop us at, thanked her for her help, and she drove off into the night.

Luckily for us We had called ahead just in case to make sure the Red Roofie Inn took Dogs and had a Vacancy  which they did. Before totally giving up we hit up Uber one more time, and we were in luck there were 3 Uber Drivers  in this County so that was a definite plus. We caught another break when one of said in area Uber came by to discuss if we could broker a ride (Apparently Drivers can say no to Dogs which is their right its I just don’t know why Uber doesn’t tell them up front.)

BOTTOMLINE: Uber is Unreliable because No Ride is Guaranteed due to World Class Shitty Communication between Uber and its Drivers.

This Uber Driver’s usual Van was in the Shop so she had a hell of a Loaner, I’m not a car guy by any means so I don’t remember the name, but this car had ALL these Dope  bells and whistles. This time we got a Driver who was born for Uber like she walked right out of a Uber Ad itself. To say she was an enthusiastic driver would be a horrendous understatement. So off we sped into the night breathing a massive sigh of relief. Then I got a Text.

You see my Mother had requested that I text her when I arrived at our latest destination, but I forgot because at that point what was the point really. The text was asking where we were, and I texted back we had caught an another Uber and were in route to our Home Office. She then announces that she is on her way having taken 3 and a half hours of aggravation to suit up in her armor, mount her white Horse and fucking help us.

I showed the Text to my Wife because at this point I just didn’t give a fuck about anything other than we were finally on our way back to our Home Offices. My Wife texted with my Mother and arranged for us to meet up with her at a designated exit at a Gas Station. We arrived and thanked our awesome Uber Driver and loaded up into my Mother’s Car.

I don’t remember the ride as I tuned my Mother out being that I was still confused, frustrated, and angry that this whole shit show came full circle after HOURS of unnecessary stress. We finally arrived at our Home Offices at 1:37 am instead of our original ETA of 9:00 pm.

Alls Well that Ends Well I suppose.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober  

Car Fires & Pay Phones

For a formital time in my past (starting when I was 91) I spent traveling primarily back and forth from The North to The South every year or so. I embraced my tortoise paced transient life style as I’d spend a year up to say 18 months up North until I got bored or more likely was in some sort of trouble who’s consequences were on the horizon. At that point I’d head down South and start the whole process over again (and again and yet once again) in an endless self destructive cycle.

It was during one of my times I spent in The Swamp I was reunited with a couple of friends who had returned to The South many moons before me. I found out my 2 friends Armenian and his long term girlfriend Eon where living with Armenian’s parent’s (Mr. & Mrs. Fuckedin- Thehead) house about 3 hours from where I was living at the time. I had been living down in The South approximately 6 months in a smaller than small town known as The Rat’s Ass. Armenian’s parent’s house was located in a smaller micro town called Zero for the past couple of years. I managed to get a copy of their phone number, went to the closest pay phone (yes kiddies this was in the lost time before smart/cell phones.) and gave them a call. We bullshitted for a few minutes and then decided we should meet up and to do so I should shut up shop and drive to Zero where I could also crash on the couch at Armenian’s parent’s place indefinitely.

Right after I arrived in the tiny town of Rat’s Ass I bought a used car from this shady little amateur risky dink fly by night “car dealerships” you know the kind. It was one of those places with a motley crew of  used cars crammed close to one another like Sardines on some small patch of dirt on the outskirts of town.  Of course as par of the course I had to haggle with this slimy schister of a sales man until we struck a deal on a car that fit my needs. So making the drive over to Zero would be easy as I had my own transportation and no real reason to stay in Rat’s Ass since I had a shit retail job (and I was stealing merchandise from my employer as well for quite awhile) ,and I lived with 3 random room mates in a glorified flop house. Once I talked to Armenian I went directly home, grabbed my shit, told my room mates I was leaving so fuck them and drove off into the dead of night never to be seen again.

I arrived at Armenian’s house around 1 am and met his parents for the first time. His father Yon was a life long alcoholic fuck up with a extensive rap sheet and a hardcore drug problem. While Armenian was growing up (when his dad wasn’t in jail or on a bender) made the monumental mistake to try and be his son’s friend instead of father. Armenian’s mother Yeg also had an seriously extreme on and off again passionate love affair with hardcore street drugs though she was fully functional (Armenian’s dad at this point was BARELY functional). A few weeks of smoking weed, drinking beer and doing fuck all we all agreed it was time to get the hell out of Armenian’s parent’s place and get our own. We started by looking at spots in neighboring town’s as Zero well, Zero lived up to its name and had absolutely nothing to offer. We were still crashing at Armenian’s parent’s pad at night while we spent our days looking at different housing options.

It was a picturesque Wednesday as the 3 of us loaded up in my car and headed out to continue the reality hunt and headed out of town. We hadn’t even hit the town limit when simultaneously Armenian and I notice slight whisps of smoke trickling out from the perimeter of the car hood. Figuring the car was simply overheating we pulled into a local restaurant’s parking lot right away, and I proceeded to park my car way in the back of the restaurant’s parking lot that was entirely empty. Armenian and I jumped out of my car as soon as we parked and went to pop the hood to locate the car’s issue at hand. As soon as we popped the hood of my car it was horribly obvious my car wasn’t overheating ,BUT ironically was on fire as indicated by the foul flames that leapt out at us when we popped the hood. Again we must remember this was the time before technology (and its enormously fast evolution in society) so we didn’t have a cell/smart phone we could use right then and there to call 911. As people did at this time in history we ran over to the restaurant to ask to use their phone (or their pay phone if that be the case)

I feel its important to clue you the reader in on a few facts of this situation other than my cars being engulfed in flame. I will be using a list once again to help keep things moving along.

  1. Zero is a Podunk little town YET this one restaurant was the designated “Fancy Restaurant” around the town. In all honesty the restaurant was equivalent to a run of the mill Olive Garden (No disrespect to Olive Garden intended)
  2. The population of Zero were low to lower income blue collar workers mixed with drug dealers and addicts alike. This most likely accounted for almost the entire parking lot of theirs to be vacantly devoid of cars and customers.
  3. The 3 of us didn’t resemble anything like any sort of dress code nor fancy attire in any way what so ever. Eon was the best dressed of us all in a hippy dippy sundress, a white t-shirt with some cartoon scrawled on it and barefoot. Armenian looked the most out of place of us all. Armenian was around 6’3″, wore entirely black clothes, had skin so white you could see right through it if he held his hand up to the light, long fucking fire red hair (with goatee to match mind you) ,and generally looked like he might lunge at you at any second. I wasn’t much better off than Armenian truthfully. I was insanely under weight at a buck 125 ( I looked like a concentration camp victim my mother told me), shaved head, and was wearing a Slaytanic t-shirt with worn out blue jeans and a beat up pair of combat boots.

So as you or one might imagine when the 3 of us stumbled into the restaurant out of breath and a bit sweaty we turned heads like we had 2 heads to say the least. Once we entered the front door we were in a entrance way that resembled a short hallway that led up to the Hostess’s desk. We strode up to the desk and politely as well as quietly requested to use their phone. We were immediately and emphatically (not to mention as snidely as a stuck up wannabe fancy fuck could be) NO. We were then told we could however use the restaurant’s pay phone if we needed to make a phone call. Now the thing about their pay phone was it was located on the far wall right at the entrance to their main dining room where there handful of pretentious twats were sitting eating their over priced fake ass fine dinning lunches. At this point I was pissed off like a son of a bitch, here my car is burning and these restaurant rejects are giving me a unwarranted snotty ass attitude so this is what I did next to settle this unseen score. I walked over to their pay phone as fast as my feet could take me and then proceeded to dial 911. Once the 911 operator picked up and asked what was the problem I was calling about I virtually yelled as loud as possible directly into the main dining room of the restaurant “MY FUCKING CAR IS ON FIRE! ITS BEEN BURNING AWHILE AND I THINK ITS LIKELY TO FUCKING EXPLODE ANY FUCKING SECOND NOW!!!!” It was right then every piece of pompous shit eating lunch jumped out of their seat and vacated the restaurant running like their asses were on fire too in an attempt to move or save their cars for the obvious reasons. Now I must remind you I was parked all the way in the back of the lot nowhere near anyones car in the least.

The fire department was dispatched and arrived in record time, but at this point all the could do was extinguish the flames as my car was absolutely totaled at this point after burning for 10-15 minutes strait.  The prissy patrons of the restaurant all got in their cars and bailed, I never saw a single one go back in to pay or anything (I assume they all were going to use my car fire as a reason they shouldn’t have to pay their bill’s as it was a great inconvenience TO THEM) Anyway we called an acquaintance in town to come pick us up and give us a lift out of their. Our ride came over fast as fast can be ,and we loaded up and left leaving the burnt out wreck that was my car in the restaurants parking lot like a giant still smoldering piece of coal.