The other day I loaded up my dogs and drove down to Los Angeles to go to an event, and all of us except Jose, my Jeep, are back here safe and sound. He’s, um, taking a few days off to get drivable again.
Yes, I know, he just had his front end worked on to get rid of that annoying death wobble, but this time it’s his rear that’s causing problems, mostly due to a Jeep Grand Cherokee running into him and busting it up.
After seeing my old teacher and friend, Rob Roberge, talk about his latest book, a memoir (Liar), at a Barnes and Noble, I thought I’d stop at Tito’s Tacos to pick up a couple delicious beef and cheese burritos to bring back with me to the desert, where Tito’s, sadly, doesn’t exist. I even considered swinging by one of the places I lived in when I was still in LA, my place in Playa del Rey just across from the beach, to snap a quick picture and see if it had changed before heading back home.
Just as the restaurant came into view, my plans and a few other things besides, changed rather drastically.
Incredibly, Jose suffered no damage to his bodywork, not even a scratch. The other driver managed to hit only the right rear (passenger side) wheel, giving the tire a walnut-sized hole but pretty much destroying the rear end. I haven’t gotten the official word yet, but the drive shaft got knocked off and I’m guessing the rear axle and differential are history, along with the suspension elements.
Unlike Jose, most of the front end of the rented Grand Cherokee broke off and lay all over the place. None of that weight saving plastic seems to hold up very well in accidents, and one of the pieces slammed into (and broke) my windshield. That scared the crap out of me, and I’d guess the dogs, too, when it hit.
While Jose’s engine ran just fine, he wouldn’t budge an inch. I didn’t know about the drive shaft or anything at the time, but when I tried to move him it was as if I had a transmission full of neutral. After meeting with some of Culver City’s finest, none of whom obliged my request to just shoot me and let me done with it, I was given some paperwork and one of the officers told me what he would do.
He suggested I walk up to Sepulveda boulevard, a few hundred yards away, and look for a place to stay the night. There are a few motels right there, and then, the next morning I could think about getting the Jeep fixed. He made it sound so simple, but I was a mental mess, probably in a little shock, and my mind was racing with all sorts of dire thoughts. I was on the verge of tears and couldn’t find my insurance information and kept borrowing their flash lights as I dug through the place where it should be.
(I should point out that I typically wear a flash light on my belt when I go out at night, but that’s part of an entry that I wanted to write last week. I kept thinking I wish I’d done that)
Thanks to the part of my brain that was still working, I decided to try putting the Jeep in four wheel drive and see if the front end could pull Jose out of the middle of the intersection. Dragging the stricken rear end along the pavement didn’t sound very good, but it turned it we could move. A little later, the cops stopped the traffic so I could complete my turn and park it on the side of the road where I’d get a ticket the next morning, but he said he’d call something in and see if I could get a pass. Nice of him to do that for me. He also said it would be okay for me to sleep in the Jeep overnight if I had to, but greeted that idea with the dismay and revulsion most normal people would.
It didn’t sound good at all, but it made it.
I then stuffed what I could into the bag I take with me to the dog park, which I’d brought along, and the pups and I then began checking out the nearby places to spend the night. My worries about how much it would cost ended up being a waste of time and energy since none of the places that had vacancies allowed pets. So, around eleven or so at night we all piled back in the Jeep to spend the night.
I thought the front two seats wouldn’t be very comfortable and was (as always) worried about them getting out and running away to get hit by a car or something, so I just stuck their leashes to the seat belts for the rear seat, which is still sitting in my front room. I figured that would give them room to maneuver around and get comfortable, but they were having none of that and after several minutes of frustration I realized there just wasn’t room in the back. It’s small, anyway.
As soon as I got into the front, being dogs, they both climbed between the seats to get up to where I was, and it must have taken close to a half hour before we settled on me sitting in the passenger seat with my legs where the driver’s legs go, Vinko in the driver’s seat, and Sami sitting on top of me. After an hour or so of resting that way, I moved to the driver’s seat with my leg where the passenger’s feet go, and tried all night long to sleep.
One of my favorite things about the Jeep is how tiny and maneuverable it is, but its size does present drawbacks when you’re trying to sleep in it with two dogs. Of the three of us, only Sami could ever get comfortable. I don’t know if it was the novelty of the situation or what, but even when I could wedge myself into an acceptable position between avoiding the sharp metal center console, the steering wheel and pedals, and just the overall discomfort of trying to sleep in a car, every time I looked at Vinko, he was sitting up.
Quite often he will lay his head on the padded part of the console and rest, but not tonight, not when I wanted him to. I kept trying to push or pull him into what I thought would be a more comfortable position with him (not easy with a dog his size), but he never got the message. Eventually he’d get into a position where I thought he could sleep, but then I’d move (trying to make myself more comfortable), and he’d get up and the whole process would start all over again.
In short, all night long, the three of us kept moving around, trying to get comfortable and constantly failing.
One thing that kept bothering me was that I had to find a tow company, a place to get the Jeep fixed, and a rental car place. I had my mobile cell phone with me, but it’s not a smart phone and had resorted to having to ask strangers for help in locating any of those. Since the Internet has replaced telephone books, I felt very much alone and isolated and both helpless and worthless.
At some point in the night, a tow truck began collecting some other car, and I walked over to talk to the driver to get their name and number or see if he had a business card. He didn’t have one of those, but pointed to the phone number painted on the side of his truck and even told me there was a (good) car repair place just on a nearby corner!
I went back to the Jeep thinking I could call his place in the morning and have Jose taken up the street and felt a whole lot better. Two problems -- solved!
I next started wondering if I could save myself the tow charges by driving the Jeep up to the fixit place. It could possibly make it the few hundred yards (meters) but it would be a painfully slow drive and I’d get in the way of and be a nuisance to the morning traffic. Still, I thought it would be worth a shot and thought it might be easier if I put the spare tire on to at least avoid peeling off the flat one and then possibly grinding down the wheel.
I jacked the Jeep up and one of the heavy duty springs that keeps the body up, fell away. I put it in the back of the Jeep, just because. I got all the lug nuts off, but the wheel was stuck on one of the bolts no matter how hard I tried to get it off. It was dark, of course, so I gave up, put all but the locking nut back on, and went back inside to sleep, figuring it was damaged and I’d have to have it towed.
So, without worrying about being a slowly moving traffic obstruction in the morning, I tried, again, to get some sleep and tackle things in the morning.
Around six in the morning I decided the time was ripe to get started. The restroom at the gas station on the corner (which was across the street from the car repair place, as it turned out), was still locked up for the night and wouldn’t open until seven or eight, so I took a leak in an alley.
I went back to the Jeep to walk the dogs so they could join me in bladder relief and rewarded them with some handfuls of kibble and cookies that I’d wisely added to the dog park bag. We were all sort of okay and I downed the coffee I’d bought at the gas station, and decided the first thing I should do, even when local businesses were still shut, was to do my legal, civic, and decent duty and call my insurance company.
At some point when the police were still around I’d managed to find my insurance card, but in the ensuing few hours, I’d lost it again. Not only didn’t I have my policy number, I didn’t even have their phone number, but the cop had assured me I didn’t need the number but that they could find it for me. I called what used to be information (411) but is now some private company, and they gave me the number and connected me. Yes, there’s a charge for the service, but I’d even skimmed through a Spanish language free newspaper that was filled with ads, but none for Progressive Insurance, the one I used.
I got through to someone at Progressive, and I have to say, my whole life changed.
My connection wasn’t the greatest and I was right next to street that was growing busier by the moment with traffic so I had to ask the woman to repeat nearly everything she said once or twice, which embarrassed me, but she stayed friendly, patient, and accommodating all during the call.
Best of all, though, was what she told me. In California, at least, all drivers are required to have insurance for damage that they cause to people or property, and I knew I was good with that. All other insurance is optional and, since it costs more, that was all I thought I had, so you can imagine my surprise and joy to learn that I had collision insurance that covered damage to my own vehicle! All night long I’d worried how much it would cost me to fix Jose (or if it was even possible) and if I’d do it.
I love that little Jeep, and couldn’t imagine either being able to pay to get him fixed or buying another car. But, somehow, at some point, I’d gotten insurance to pay to repair my own car and the most it would cost me was one thousand dollars! Sure, that’s a lot of money and I’d normally and habitually blanch at the thought of spending that much, but if that’s all it would cost me to get Jose back on his feet and good again, I’d do it in a heartbeat!
Also, equally surprising, my insurance would also pay for a rental car. And towing. And the sweet, sweet woman on the other end of the phone call would take care of everything for me. As they say, “sign me up!” but it seems I’d already done that.
I truthfully could not and cannot remember signing up for any for that. I’m not at all sure if I was at one point wise, feeling unexpectedly generous, or if at some point it was added to my policy like one of those browser toolbars that get loaded onto your system when you install something else, but all of my problems went away in the first two or three minutes of talking to her.
The phone call(s) took about an hour or so what with all my asking her to repeat things and me walking around to get away from a using leaf blowers to clean up the sidewalk, the arrival of some road crew to block off the lane the Jeep was in for repairs or something, and my struggles to find a place I could make out what she was saying. At one point we got disconnected, which I used to check the phone’s battery and how many more minutes I could still talk before paying for more, but it did get resolved and the tow truck showed up just as we were trying to the car rental people to come pick me up.
In the end, not only did the guy from Enterprise rent a car show up to take me and the long suffering pups to go get my rental car, he was also in a Jeep! I have no idea what the odds would be that all three vehicles involved in this incident would be Jeep products (his was also an SUV or ute), but I could have paid for everything had I made a bet on that beforehand.
The amount my insurance company was willing to pay for a rental vehicle just so happened to cover the entire cost of what they had for me to rent so I through caution to the wind and paid, myself, for the extra and best insurance Enterprise offered. Not only had my recent car experiences scared me, but I once worked with a Greatful Dead fan who used to say they all called “Deadhead insurance” that let you return the burned and twisted VIN tag and have the insurance company say “thank you.”
And, after all that, they rented me a pickup truck.
I have no idea how that worked or what went into their decision, but a shiny new full sized white Nissan pickup brought me, Vinko, and Sami eventually back to our desert home after fulfilling a requested appointment to visit my doctor at a time when I was feeling decidedly ugly and spent.
I’d spent a day and night wearing the same clothes, which I’d tried to sleep in inside a Jeep with two dogs, had survived a car accident, gone way over twelve hours without eating a thing and surviving on a few swallows of water (out of the dog’s traveling jug), one cup of coffee, and for the first time in years, an actual, honest-to-goodness Coca-Cola with sugar and caffeine to keep me alert for the last fifty miles of the drive back home.
I was dazed, spent, and had managed to collect a bruise on my forehead that neither the cops nor the doctor commented on, but after visiting her, we were all back home!
And, I decided to tell you all about it.
¡Jose Down!
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