Disaster Strikes
I had just gotten off a call and was listening to The Mighty Mighty Bosstones cranked up at top volume when something went horribly wrong with my car.
The screen on the center panel started flashing, with warning messages popping up on top of other warning messages. Basically, the entire system was going into meltdown.
Keeping one eye on the road, I started tapping the screen as fast as I could, trying to find the source of the problem. But then the screen went dark, the engine switched off, and all I could do was steer over to the side of the road before my car died completely.
Sitting there in total silence, I was in a state of shock. I'd just paid $12,000 to have the car serviced, and now it wouldn't respond at all. I'd charged up the batteries in Huntsville, so I knew that wasn't the issue, but with the screen not turning on no matter what I tried, I had no idea what was wrong.
I picked up my phone to begin Googling "What to do when your Tesla shuts down for no reason" but then I saw to my horror that I had no signal. I was stuck somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Alabama with a car that wouldn't turn on and no internet.
It really was a nightmare, especially for someone like me who's a techie and used to having gadgets at my fingertips that fucking work.
I peered through the windshield, wondering if maybe the car had been hit by a freak bolt of lightning or something, but the sky was clear. All I could see were grassy fields on either side and some scrubby looking trees off in the distance. There was no sign of any habitation, not even a curl of smoke rising up from some moonshiner's cabin.
I kept jabbing buttons on the car's screen and waving my phone around, trying to get a signal, but nothing worked. It was only when the air began to get stale and the temperature inside the passenger compartment began to get uncomfortably warm that I opened the door.
I was standing on a two-lane road, one that my stupid GPS had recommended as a shortcut to get to the interstate. I'd planned my trip to the minute so that I could get to a decent sized town with a restaurant with vegan options on the menu and a nice hotel so that I'd be refreshed and ready for the long drive back to California.
But there I was, completely stuck. My beloved Model X Plaid might as well have been a wooden wagon for all the good it was doing me. I had no way to call or message anyone. It was crazy, really. In just the blink of an eye, I'd been thrown back into the dark ages, and I had no idea what to do.
Remembering that I had a user manual in the dashboard, I got back in the car and rooted around the glove box until I found it.
But the damn thing just recommended calling the Tesla service center hotline or going to their website if "unexpected difficulties arise," so I threw it as hard as I could, watching as it landed a few feet away in the grass, instantly swallowed up by the thick vegetation.
Without my phone working, I had no idea what temperature it was outside, but it was damn hot, I knew that for sure. Angrily, I loosened my shirt collar and tie, and then I began pacing around, trying to figure out what to do.
Surely, this was a public road, so someone was going to come by sooner or later. I just had to remember to be polite and then ask to borrow their phone. Yes, that was simple enough.
The only problem was that I couldn't see any cars in either direction, even when I shaded my eyes with my hand. It was as if I'd dropped completely off the map or something. Didn't anyone live around here? Surely this was the United States, even if it was a remote part of Alabama.
There had to be a hog farmer or tobacco grower or someone nearby, right? At that point, even some toothless hillbilly in a rusted out pick-up truck would've been a welcome sight, but no, there was absolutely no one.
As the sun got hotter and hotter as it rose overhead, I began to sweat like crazy. I rolled up my sleeves and then got my bottle of Fiji water out of the car. But to my consternation, it was more than half gone already. I had no food or emergency supplies with me, just my suitcase with a few changes of clothes and some gear that I'd brought to do the demo.
I gulped down the water and then tossed the empty bottle onto the side of the road. Normally, I'd never litter, but I was beyond caring at that point. As far as I was concerned, Alabama and whatever weird anomaly had disabled my car could go fuck themselves. Was there really no one going to come and rescue me from that infernal heat?
The asphalt on the road was so hot that I could feel it through the soles of my shoes. I was still wearing my Limited Edition John Lobbs that I'd worn to impress the locals during the meeting.
I had a pair of Nike Pegasus in my suitcase, but I didn't bother changing into them as I didn't see what good that would do. The sun was hot. The road was hot. Everything was fucking hot as well, and I was out of water and out of options.
As the sun continued to broil me, I started cursing aloud, first just muttering but then shouting at the top of my lungs. Why had this happened to me? I had just been minding my own business and then disaster had struck.
Was I going to get cancer from all the sun exposure? Was I going to die of thirst? Would I have to head off toward those trees and try to scavenge some acorns or something like some kind of primitive savage? It was all just so unfair!
I was so dizzy and dehydrated that when I first heard a vehicle coming down the road my way, I thought it was a mirage. It was bright green and seemed to be moving at a snail's pace, floating up and down as it slowly approached where I was standing.
Finally, it got close enough that I could see it was a tractor. I had no idea why someone would be driving a friggin' tractor down the middle of a state road, but at that point, I didn't care.
I started imagining some friendly local at the wheel, maybe a grower of organic microgreens, who always kept a cooler with ice-cold oat milk in the cab.
Yes, my savior had come, and I eagerly began waving my hands as the tractor inched closer. It was a monster of a machine, twice as tall as my car, and the glare of the sun made it impossible to see who was behind the wheel.
But he had to be seeing me, right? Or maybe he was blind drunk on the joy juice he cooked up behind the chicken coop.
Yet the tractor rolled on right past me without even slowing down. I began to scream and holler, jumping up and down as I chased after it.
I couldn't get too close because there were some fearsomely sharp looking implements sticking out of the rear end, but it was driving slowly enough that I could run alongside the cab.
"Hey! Stop! I need some fucking help!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
