Timing {Belts}

I knew when I spilled coffee on my shirt less than a minute after putting ON the shirt...that the best course of action was probably just to go back to bed.

I did not do that.

Instead, I walked out the door to work and paused by Ryan's car and considered driving it to work, just for funsies. {Because he drove the dump truck to work that day.} {I'm using that sentence now because I might not get the chance again.} {Then again, I'm married to Ryan. That sentence might become normal. Who knows?}

But I pulled the responsible adult card and climbed in my older, less-fun car and began my commute. Ryan and I chatted on the phone for the majority of the commute as we always do, and I exited the interstate right on time and began the last 15 minute leg of the trip.

I stopped at a stoplight and when it turned green, I pressed the gas pedal. NOTHING. I looked down and saw a brilliant array of lights across the dashboard. Engine. Battery. All of them.

I did what any self-respecting Bekah would do and burst into tears and yelled to Ryan, "MY CAR IS DEAD AND I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A ROAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Ryan did what any normal human being would do and tried to calm me down with soothing words of "It's okay, honey."

"IT IS NOT OKAY!!! MY CAR IS DEAD AND THE LIGHT IS GREEN AND WHAT DO I DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO????????"

{I presume you did not need me to tag that last quote with my name to, in fact, know I said it.}

He asked if I could call the business that changes my oil for me, so with shaking {I mean SERIOUSLY shaking} hands, I hung up and dialed their number. The sweet office manager answered, and I sobbed in her ear, "Carol, it's Bekah Shaffer and my car died on the road and I'm scarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreddddddddddd." {She formerly knew me as the witty and welcoming co-host of BLT. Not anymore.}

God love that sweet Carol, she put me on hold and called a tow truck company and told me to hang tight - they'd be right there. In fifteen minutes.

I don't know how many times you've spent fifteen minutes sitting at a stoplight on a busy road, at ten minutes to eight on a work day, but it's a little nerve wracking. Mostly I was afraid someone would come up behind me, not see my hazard lights {ten points for Bekah for knowing where THOSE are without pulling out the manual} and hit me - pushing me into the intersection.

I called Ryan back to let him know a tow truck was on its way - and I noticed a cop car coming up behind me. You should know that I have an unhealthy fear of the police force. {Extra funny since Ryan's brother is an officer.} I pretended to not notice him {big hair works wonders for hiding} but he pulled up beside me and honked. Figured I shouldn't ignore that.

I tried to roll down the window - but that didn't work, so I opened the door. The gentleman said, "You okay?" I resumed the beauty-queen-crying-for-world-peace face {see below}

and said, "My car diedddddddddddddddddddddd but a tow truck is coming."

He told me he was on his way to a call but he'd be back. I secretly hoped he was serious, while secretly hoping he wasn't. {Fear of being stranded in a road collides with fear of police.}

Ryan had to go into work, so he prayed with me and hung up and I did what I could do there in my dead car: called my mom and updated Facebook. Not necessarily in that order.

A few minutes later, the cop came back and parked behind me with his lights on, which went a long way in calming my heart.

By the time the tow truck arrived, the portions of my {previously stellar} makeup that had not been cried off had melted off after 20 minutes in a hot car.

The cop offered to take me to work, so I gathered up all my work luggage and carried it back to his car. I climbed in beside his computer and waited for my car to be carried away on a tow truck. {By the way - those police laptops take half a seat and my work luggage took all the floor space. I was glad I could fold neatly into half a seat and STILL buckle the seat belt.}

And that was how my bucket list wish of being taken to work in a police car came true.

{Just kidding. About it being on the bucket list, that is.}

The shop inspected my car and it turned out it was the timing belt that broke. My first response was "That wasn't the greatest timing." But after learning more about these belts...I learned that I'm fortunate it didn't die while I was on the interstate, or the damage to the car could have been much more significant.

So I'm thankful. I'm thankful for a husband who prayed for me and kept me calm in the middle of a freak-out. I'm thankful that if the car HAD to die somewhere other than our garage, it happened right where it did. I'm thankful for the nice Officer John who sat with me and took me to work. I'm thankful for the person that invented tow trucks and the one that came to get my little Bekah-mobile. I'm thankful for a car shop that takes such good care of me.

Timing wasn't so bad after all.