Knight Writer

A few days ago my driving attempt to a town about a hundred miles away was thwarted by a series of events that may or may not have a big comedy reveal.

I was driving along, minding my own business passing a few 18 wheelers with my twin turbos (whatever that is) when my rear tire decided to be a rice krispie and go "pop"  ( the snap and crackle came later).

A message came up on my little tv screen in my car.

I was in the middle of nowhere on a highway, but nearing a town that was decent sized (10 or more people) so I quickly googled the nearest BMW dealership.  There aren't a lot of places that carry the same brand tire and there are only about three or four BMW dealerships in all of Louisiana.  

I called the dealership to tell them I was on my way.

Two minutes and two miles later (not fifty) came the snap and the crackle.

I love it when my car speaks to me.

I pulled over and surveyed the damage.

I surveyed where I was.

Things didn't look good. Since when did they start making exits 3 miles long?

I called the tow trucker people.


The tow trucker guy got lost and called me six times before he found me.


Six times.

The sun tried to make me melt. I began to think I would be on Fox News by midnight.  I am Republican, after all.  They always look for us.

Sometimes I wish my last name was "Fox."

Nah...

I would say I wish my last name was CNN but I'm not even sure what the letters stand for, however I have to give a shout out for CNN because I know some great producers there who actually read my crazy blog stuff!

I lay on the grass baking in the sun, hallucinating Big Macs, thinking about all of my McProblems and I wasn't lovin' it.  Somehow, I was going to survive.  I was going to make it.  Two shady guys stopped and I wanted to panic, but kept my cool .  I used to carry mace (until I maced myself) and also a gun (until...oh, never mind) but I may or may not be in the witness protection program and may or may not have given up firearms.  And my last name probably or probably isn't Knight...anymore.

Two hours later, tow trucker guy arrives.

Yes, I drive one of the fastest cars in the world.  When I buckle my seatbelt, it is for maximum buckling, not any of that minimum stuff.  Maybe that is why my tires pop?


Things weren't always this way.

On the way to the dealership, the tow truck almost hit a carload of Justin Beiber fans. My day was slipping away from me in tiny fragments that wasn't my imagination.  I just wanted to get to civilization.


And there it was.

Twelve Superbowls didn't have as much coverage as I did walking into that dealership.  I was starving, having survived two and a half hours in the wild without food, water or internet, so I ran through the crowd for the nearest vending machine.


I put in a dollar.  Five times.  Nothing.

I asked to use one of the BMW's on the lot to go get a hamburger.  They called the shuttle driver instead.  He was having problems and would be an hour.  Of course.  Why would things be any different?


I decided to walk.  There was a fast food restaurant in the distance across a few football fields.  I could do that.

I finally made it there and saw this:

I was so excited to eat and took a giant bite of my food.  I don't know if they accidentally dropped it into a salt mine, but it was the saltiest thing I have ever eaten in my life and I have eaten a big heaping pile of salt.


I left with great distrust for their food making skills.


On the way back I took a picture of this sign.  I felt it was fitting for my day.

There was only one mudhole on the way back in that entire field.

Sometimes you just need that coffee and donut and you need it now...