Timothy Birdnow

My dear departed mother used to say that with so many things in life you start off being nice, then have to move to terse, then have to turn downright ugly, be a real horse's hindquarters, to get any results. She was right.

I remember a sci-fi story by I think Phillip K. Dick in which he postulated "the law of maximum irritation"; the hero of the story discussed life, and said it was caused by irritation; his boots just walked away on a very hot day. Maybe a touch of comic relief, but he did have a fundamental point down - the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Now I don't like to squeak, or get downright nasty either, but I had to last night.

I'm normally a big fan of the Auto Club. They've pulled me out of innumerable scrapes, and even come and hauled me out at the Ozark Hilton, for crying out loud! I know; it's the tow drivers, not the company itself. But the company did a great job of hiring contractors as well as their own staff.

Can't say that about last night.

I had to take my dad to Mercy hospital yesterday for his skin cancer followup (he's o.k. but had some pre-cancer they had to burn away). I took him home and stayed as long as I dared - with my bad vision I find night driving dangerous. At any rate I had plenty of time when I left.

$$^%^ flat tire!

Dad has a gas station two blocks from his house, so I limped on there and filled the tire. Made it ALMOST home when thunk! Thunk! Thunk! and there was no way I was going to make it home. I headed for the BP station a few blocks away.

Blast it; their air hose had a sign "out of order - sorry" as if that was the slightest consolation!

Now it was completely dark and I didn't think I would have much luck getting that tire off. I didn't; the lug nuts wouldn't budge, and my tire-iron wouldn't hold on the nuts. Clearly it was more a tired iron.

So I called AAA. It was about quarter to five thirty.

I received a text message "Your estimated time is 7:30".

Drat. Oh, well.

About 7:15 I received another message; "your estimated service time is 8:45".

8:15 rolls around and "your estimated time of service is 9:45".

"Your estimated time of service is 10:15"

I called. "we're very busy sir. Someone will be with you as soon as they can.

Now, I am a diabetic and hadn't eaten since 11 that morning. And I hadn't had any water despite a great need as I take lasix and can get dehydrated.

So I sat and waited and watched the cars come and go from the gas station lot (it's a small station and I was not in any sort of parking spot - just kind of stuck out there.

I called again "we're very busy sir. Your driver has one customer ahead of you."

"Your service should arrive by 1050."

"Your service should arrive by 11:51"

I called again;

"We're very busy sir. You are next in line.

Then the coup de grace:

"Your estimated service time will be 4:53 a.m."

I had been sitting in my pickup for going on five hours at this point and they were saying at least five hours more!

I don't know if you have ever seen a conniption, but I am sure it wasn't pretty. My head rotated 360* like Linda Blair's did in The Exorcist. A torrent of foamy spittle began flooding from my white lips. I began speaking a strange language, one never heard by human ears. Powers and Principalities trembled before me.

I called AAA and got a guy "we're very busy sir"

"I don't care how ^%^%# busy you are. I don't care if it's the bleeding Apocalypse. You are going to get a service truck out here with the next half hour.

He didn't like that "You don't tell me what I'm going to do!"

I really don't blame him for getting angry at me; I was beyond rational thought. Oddly enough though that calmed me a fraction.

"I want a supervisor".

He put me on hold too long and I had to hang up and call back.

I imagine they had to find her in some dusty obscure storage room, stashed behind the toner and spare printing paper. At any rate they put on Sweet Voice, a girl (and that's what she sounded like) who would melt butter in your mouth.

"I'm sorry sir, we've been very busy."

"Here is what is going to happen" I responded "I am going to wait one half hour and if you don't show up I'll have to drive home on the flat. YOU are going to pay for a new tire, a new rim, and for any damages done to my vehicle.

"Don't do that. Why don't you just go in your house?"

My blood boiled. "I told you people when I called I'm at a gas station!"

"Oh, well don't you have someone who could come get you?"

I yanked out a massive tuft of hair

"I can't leave the vehicle here, and no I don't!"

"Oh."

She promised to get someone out soon.

Within minutes the towing company called and swore a man would be there in half an hour - exactly as I demanded. He was there in 20 minutes and I was on my way home.

I have little doubt I would still be sitting in my truck waiting as of this moment had I not gone all Medieval on them. They were triaging me and mistakenly thought I was at home.

I hate getting that way and I do regret yelling at their agents - especially the guy, who had every right to think I was a real jerk. But that was just unacceptable.

AAA got rid of their own drivers and now contracts everything out, I am given to understand. Shortages are what happen when you do things like that. Now I could understand it if it were bitterly cold or very snowy, but it was pretty warm for January last night (high 40's) and there just was no excuse for such slow service - especially since I've been a member since the 1980's and have a Gold membership.

At any rate the whole point of this ridiculously long screed is to say that while AAA has done me right over the years I fear they are slipping. I may have to rethink my association with them.

Or I could just get better and screaming.

Posted by: Timothy Birdnow at 08:05 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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