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This is long, I know...but a lot happened and last time I tried to shorten the story, I ended up scaring everybody because there weren't enough details. ^_^;;;
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There I was, driving down the Interstate, when all of the sudden this dark round piece of...thing, rolls into the middle of my lane from the right. It was the shape of a medium-sized piece of firewood. I really needed to swerve to the right to avoid hitting it, but there was a semi in the right lane, so I attempted to straddle this thing, which didn't really appear to be wooden anymore. I didn't straddle it. Instead, the left wheels rolled right over, maxing out the shocks and giving me a bit of a bumpy right. The steering wheel jerk and I swerved a bit, trying to get the car back under control. Then I pulled over onto the left shoulder to inspect for damage.

And damage there was. Both left tires had blown out and there was an odd unimportant ding in my rear bumper. The tires were a problem, though. I was excited at the prospect of getting to change my tire (I love changing tires!), but I only had one spare...and it was a dummy. There really was no point. -_- So, I waited for the traffic to clear and then drove the car to the right shoulder where it could rest the flat tires on pavement instead of the grass. I checked the car more thoroughly and decided that there really was no other damage. All was good and great.

Except that I didn't have my cell phone with me.

I looked up the road and...what luck! There was a semi pulled over on the right, not too far ahead of me. I walked up to his truck and asked if he had a cell phone. He did, so I called work and told them that I drove over something, had two flats, and, at best, would be late. I handed the phone back to the truck driver and he started talking about "big damage". I explained that I just had two flats, but the one-spare situation was a pretty big problem. He started walking down the road, looking for something and, when I asked, he explained that he'd lost part of his truck.

Like...something this big and round?

Yah. Big damage!

So that was what I drove over. A piece of his freaking semi fell off right in my path. When he found it, it turned out to be two pieces of his drive shaft--the two interlocking pieces that look a little like a joint and spin really fast while the vehicle is in motion. There was, quite obviously, a third piece that had snapped off...somewhere...and had led to the entire operation malfuctioning.

Well, no big deal. At least I knew what I drove over and why I was stranded on the Interstate with a couple of flats. We looked my car over and payed special attention to the underneath, but he couldn't help me, though I was welcome to use his cell phone as much as necessary.

I called work again, and they said that I wouldn't have to come in. I told them that I needed a ride. They told me that they were going out of town and I should call them when I got to work. I asked them if I should walk. They said of course not. I told them I didn't know who to call because my brother was not at home. They told me I should find a ride. I asked them how. They transfered the phone to someone else. By the time the someone else came back online, I had remembered that I have another brother living near by. I asked her to look up the number for me. I called him, but he didn't answer. I called work again and told her that my brother wasn't home. She had no suggestions. Everyone was heading out the door. I should call her when I got a ride. I told her that I didn't have a cell phone--that I was using the truck driver's phone. She told me I should get a cell phone. I told her that she should get me a cell phone--that I was too busy buying cars. She laughed. I told her that I honestly didn't know what to do and that I was virtually stranded on the side of the Interstate. She told me to find a ride. I said okay, fine, click.

I told all this to the truck driver. He was sympathetic and informed me that he had called a repairman for his truck and maybe that guy could help me. So, since the repairman was going to be about 45 minutes, we got in his cab, got out drinks, and started a movie. A movie called "Tashan". A movie from India. We did not have subtitles. All I know is that it was very artistic, one of the male characters was an English teacher, the female was very seductive, and there were two other guys hanging around for some reason. lol. Yah, I don't speak Hindi. ^_^;;

But he and I had a great time watching the movie and wondering where the repairman was and calculating how much the long wait was costing his company and deciding that it might be a good idea to move my car up closer to the semi and turn my hazards off in order to conserve the battery.

TWO HOURS LATER, the repairman arrived. He took a look at my car and said that he couldn't help me. All he had was stuff for trucks. Bummers.

So, I borrowed the trucker's cell phone again and called my parents who live quite a distance away. I had really wanted to avoid that...but whom else could I call?

My mum picked up the phone and, after I told her what had happened, she said that I should call 911. I told her that it wasn't an emergancy. She told me that it was. I told her that it wasn't even a real accident. She told me that it was. She also told me that I needed an accident report because the trucking company was liable and should pay for my repairs. I asked her if there wasn't a non-emergancy police number I could call. She didn't know what it was. Bummers!

So, I called 911 and they transfered me to the state police who then sent out a patrolman. Before he arrived, the truck repairman left to get more supplies and a tow-truck. I liked that idea a lot. It would be weird to have the police arrive after the repairman did! So, the driver and I climbed back into his cab and finished the movie while we waited for the policeman.

When the cop finally did arrive, he just looked at me from inside his car like he didn't know why he was there. I explained the situation, yet again: drove over something, two flats, one spare. He told me I couldn't leave my car there--that it was against state law to leave any unmanned car on the side of the Intersate. This I did not know, but it made sense. He asked me what I was going to do. I told him I didn't know. He asked what I drove over. I told him it was a piece of the trucker's vehicle. The trucker confirmed. The cop asked if I had towing insurance. I told him I had full coverage and that I didn't know if that covered towing. Then he actually asked me what I wanted him to do. Flabbergasted, I told him that the whole reason I had called was because I thought I needed an accident report. Finally, he got out of his car and looked at mine. He asked to see my driver's license and then took it back to his car. The truck driver asked if I had a criminal history. I laughed and asked him if he did. He said that he couldn't because he was driving from Mexico to Canada. The cop returned, gave me back my license, and said he could call a tow-truck for me. I figured that was my only option at this point.

The tow-truck arrived in a few minutes and backed my car up so he could load it on the ramp since the semi wasn't moving anywhere. We agreed that, since my car wasn't going to be there anymore, it made the most sense for me to ride to the wrecker service, too. The patrolman said he'd tell the dispatcher where I was in case my mum called looking for me. He left. I climbed in the tow-truck. And then I realised that I still did not have an accident report, nor did I have the trucker's insurance information. I explained this to the trucker and he didn't have much to say. Heh.

He was really nice, though. He let me call my house in search of my mum's cell phone number, only to find out that mum was at home and dad was at my work. I filled her in on the details and she was pretty upset and decided to call the dispatcher and find out why I didn't get an accident report. I called work and talked to my dad.

When my dad picked me up, he wasn't very happy either. He looked at the car, satisfied himself that there really wasn't anything wrong with it other than the tires, and then we drove over to where the semi was still parked on the side of the road. He asked the driver for his insurance, but the driver refused, saying it wasn't his fault--that it was my fault for driving over the drive shaft. My dad asked why the drive shaft was in the road in the first place. The driver insisted that it was my fault for not seeing it--that a hundred cars had passed by before I hit it. ??? My dad asked if the driver had insurance. He said he didn't, but the company did and he would call them. My dad spoke with the manager, but she wouldn't give him the information, either, because it wasn't the driver's fault. And that was that.

Meanwhile, my mum was calling the police dispatcher, who put my mum through to the cop. It turns out that he was the same one who dealt with my September wreck and accused me of following too closely. (That's arguable.) This time, he said he had not written the report because he couldn't prove that the drive shaft belonged to the trucker. Even though the trucker agreed. Even though the trucker picked it back up and was going to put it back on his truck. That was not proof. Maybe I ran over the drive-shaft; maybe I ran over something else. He also claimed that he found me 3 miles from where it happened. I did not travel three miles on flat tires! I stopped immediately and drove only as far as the truck could coast and/or break without a drive shaft. This was less than half a mile. And the cop never went to the spot where it happened, let alone three miles to where he claimed it happened. And he hadn't even filled out an insident report, let alone the accident report that I had requested.

So, yah. No insurance, no report, and a Blüdhaven cop. My brothers were out of town and my boss refused to help, but at least my dad cared enough to drive a long way to help me out. And, he payed everything for me, sweet guy that he is. <3

~D~