3.01.2010

hubba hubba

If there's anything Lorain County is known for, it has to be the potholes. Cities don't take the time to fix them, so they are left to sit and sneak up on an unsuspecting driver.

Today, I was that driver.

I didn't realize that it was, in fact, a pothole until it was too late. I simply thought that it was an asphalt-filled patch. Never mind that this was a pothole big enough to bathe a baby in.

After I realized it was too late, I had enough time to look through my rear view mirror, and watch my hubcap roll its way off of the highway. If I hadn't been in the left hand lane, going 80 miles an hour, and had it not been dark out, I would have pulled off of the side of the road right then and there, but those three factors seemed like a recipe for disaster, so I refrained.

I surfed the internets to see how much it would cost to replace the hubcap, and upon realizing it would cost me roughly $100, I decided to attempt to retrieve the cap. Call me crazy. Yes, I'm crazy. (Doesn't $100 seem a bit much for ONE hubcap?? It's purely cosmetic! But let me tell you, I was so embarrassed to be driving around -- even for a short time -- without a hubcap. What an eye sore!)

I thought and thought all day about the best way to find this lost soul. Using my stellar physics skills (or my dad telling me) I realized that my hubcap was most likely going to be several yards from where it initially fell off (it was rolling at 80 miles an hour, after all). So I entered the highway at the nearest entrance to the incident, put on my flashers (or, rather, thought after the fact that I should have put on my flashers) and drove 40 miles an hour in the right hand lane (luckily, when I saw the cap rolling in my rear view mirror, it was rolling into the slow lane). As I approached the scene, I wasn't sure I would be able to find it, but sure enough, there was not one, not two, but THREE hubcaps within 50 yards of one another.

After I saw the first one, I pulled over to the side of the road, put my flashers on for reals, hopped out and walked to the first cap. I was broken, and not mine. Phew. About 40 yards behind my car lay another hubcap. Again, not mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a shiny hubcap in the snow, just on the edge of the drop off into the ravine. I trudged through the snow (in heels!), and low and behold, it was my beloved hubcap!

I grabbed that sucker, walked the 50 yards back to my car, and drove off safely into the night.

Now I just have to figure out how to attach it back onto the car. Because I'm still ridin' ghetto style right now.

3 comments:

Tali Nay said...

such an inspiring and gripping tale! seriously, gold medal for having the huevos to risk life and limb and track down the blasted thing.

Heather said...

Amen to tali. I don't know if I would have done it.

raquel said...

hahahah almost a year after charleston, where i lost not one but two hubcaps on those damn ghetto streets, i was driving in state college and jimmy b called me from about two cars behind and over a lane to say he knew it was me b/c of my lack of hubcaps...