What did I do in a former life to deserve the kind of car problems I have? Was I one of those machines that smashes old cars into pancakes? Was I road salt that corrodes the underbelly? Was I a gigantic pothole? Perhaps I was black ice or a semi that shoots rocks into windshields? Whatever it was, it had to be bad, and it had to be the kind of thing that cars HATE because apparently my 15 year history of needing rescue on the side of the road is not yet over.
I woke up this morning to big fat snowflakes coming down in droves (yay!). I laughed maniacally as I (and all of the rest of Denver) drove to work despite the blizzard. I laughed even louder when I realized the temperature was 9 (yes NINE) degrees outside. It was amazing to me how wonderfully the city was handling the quickly accumulating snow in comparison to Oregonians in Arctic Blast 2008. I stopped laughing about a mile from my house when my left rear wheel seized up, causing my car to drive straight only when the steering wheel was turned as though I was making a sharp right turn (and the car was at a slight angle...looking like it was heading straight into the left lane). I know this doesn't make any sense to you, the reader. It also didn't make any sense to me, the driver. It seemed like I was just kind of spinning out on the icy road. Only, the road wasn't very icy and I wasn't actually spinning. So, I just kept driving, at an angle, with my wheel sharply turned, thinking I would somehow come out of this "spin". It wasn't until a friendly driver in the next lane rolled down his window to tell me the 411 on my wheel that I learned it had seized up and was not spinning...thus causing my car to want to drive around that stuck tire like a dog chasing it's tail. At that point, I stop the car (there wasn't really a shoulder on which to pull over) and get out to have a look. I'm not sure what I intended to see or do with that look. It's true...the wheel wasn't spinning (which is good considering the car was stopped and I was no longer at the helm). So, I looked, then promptly got back into the car (remember the 9 degree weather and the blizzard??) and attempted to turn the car back on. Only, Mitzy had completely given up on me and would not start. Damn. I sat there in my freezing car, watching the snow pile up to the point that I could not see out any of the windows in a matter of minutes, while I frantically tried to call work, my insurance road side assistance, and my roommate so that I could be rescued.
I thought that buying a relatively new car would free me of my close relationship with the local tow truck company and nearby mechanic. Apparently my bad Carma (sic) is here to stay and Tow Truck Tim and I are on our way to being BFFs.