Lady Luck

Editor’s Note: Here is yet another post from my archives. From my vault? I’m just kidding. Compared to yesterday’s post, Scars Fade, this one is way more lighthearted, I promise!!! If you know me, then you know my car is one of my most prized possessions. Hopefully, you know how this works by now, but if you don’t… awkward. I’m revisiting my old posts from a different blog I used to write for, but I’m adding my current thoughts to it for a cheeky little twist. By the way, editor = 24-year-old Shresta, duh!

Earlier today, my car started wobbling. Wobbling. Eeyore, my car, was jerking side-to-side as I was driving to the dealership to get my wheels checked out. My knuckles were clenched at the top of my steering wheel in hopes of making it the last four miles to my destination. Alas, my luck did not stretch that far today. A lovely couple drove up to inform me that my wheel was actively deflating. I pulled into their neighborhood, and they kindly offered to fill my tire with enough air to get to the dealership. However, yet again, my luck did not stretch that far today. The air was leaving my tire as fast as it was going in. Nonetheless, I thanked them for their generosity and sat in my car dialing my roommate, parents, and roadside assistance. [Needless to say, I posted on my private Snapchat story geeking about the incident. I was certainly not as chill about it as I made it seem here.]

Each call wore me out. I felt like shedding tears, yet nothing was wrong. It’s just a tire and, thankfully, I didn’t get into an accident. As I said, nothing was inherently wrong. [That’s kind of repetitive… people have short attention spans but they’re not that short lol.] Although a vicious little mosquito got into my car earlier, so he [Notice how I said he? Take that how you will.] was buzzing around torturing me. Other than that, the Arizona heat was beating down into my car as I awaited for roadside assistance. My car has always been a safe space and feeling unsafe in the one environment I felt that I could control made me extremely uneasy. I felt anxiety and exhaustion and all I could think about was adulthood.  Is this what being an adult is? [No, adulthood is hoping you didn’t commit tax evasion because you’re unsure if you’re submitting your information correctly.]

The roadside assistance man arrived and hooked my car up to drive off to North Scottsdale so Eeyore could get serviced. My Lyft arrived around the same time and our car took the lead in driving to the showroom. Fatigue finally set in and I simply wanted the day to be over within the next five minutes. I fear, though, that my luck did not stretch that far today. The people at the showroom spoke to me as though they were in a rush. Yet, their lobby was empty. Did I seem like an incompetent car owner? Did my bushy, youthful eyebrows and messy, curly hair hint at my age? [Proud to say I have a great hair routine now… begone messy curls.]

Finally, I settled into a chair and scrolled through social media as I awaited their diagnosis of Eeyore. The services man approached me with a clipboard of papers, and my uneasy look must’ve warranted a kind gesture to step into his office. He explained to me that I brought my car to them just in time since the maintenance warning came up and all four of my tires were horribly worn down. My tires have a special addition to them, you see. There is an extra track holding it to my car, so I can get extra mileage when the tire is flat. However, the rear left tire, the one I’ve always had trouble with, had its track expanded and it was the only reason my tire didn’t completely dislodge from my car. The services man brought me to my car and showed me that the tire was barely holding on. To further my sense of dread, he informed me that my other tires were about to reach a similar point if I had kept on driving. 

If I kept driving, as I always did to solve my problems or find peace, I would’ve been in some serious danger. How unfortunate, don’t you think? It’s as though 2020 really does not want me to achieve any sense of contentment. It’s rude if you ask me. [I use so many “flowery” words, gosh. I still struggle with adding additional unnecessary words to drive home a point. Annoying!]

Ultimately, they offered a rental for practically nothing, since I’m 21 and I drive one of their cars. It’s a cute 2020 car - pretty neat, huh? As they showed me how to use the rental, I felt the welts forming from that mosquito earlier on. If you didn’t know, I’m quite allergic to mosquitos, and, yes, you can be allergic to them. On top of that, the sweat was rolling down the sides of my face. I had been in a state of distress and exhaustion for three hours at this point, and, as many of you know, the Arizona sun is unforgiving. I felt gross and hot stepping into the new car and I was waved off by those helping me. Somehow, I still felt their judgemental looks, as I was adjusting my seat and turning on some music - almost as if I didn’t know what I was doing. [Somehow, I hate this whole paragraph but I have no idea how to fix it. Do other people feel that way about their past work? Lol.]

Anyhow, I finally started making my way home. On the drive, the mountains looked quite lovely and the sun was no longer as harsh. The clouds looked painted into the sky as they lazily drifted by. My music [I was listening to the then new Glass Animals album of course.] was blaring through the speakers and, for once today, I felt peace. I was alone and I didn’t have to think about the problems of the past week or even the few hours prior. All I wanted to do was think about the next song in the queue and being able to make it to my apartment safely. 

Thankfully, my luck did stretch that far today.

Sincerely,

Shresta