Classic Car, Not-So-Classic Owner

(I’m driving home from work. I’m driving a beater car, and a noisy ride is the norm. However, today something doesn’t feel right. The car starts shaking oddly and I pull over at the next gas station to see if I have a flat. I do all the checks I can think of, but everything checks out. So, off I go, planning on taking it easy and having my fiance check it out once I get home. Back on the highway, it almost instantly gets WAY worse. It’s rush hour, and pulling over where I am is not a safe bet. I start taking my normal highway exit, planning to get a quarter of a mile down the road to get off onto a side street. The car has a different plan. As I’m in the turn, there is a bang and all sorts of grinding, and I feel for a moment like I’m going to lose control. Luckily, I’m able to get coast over and come to a stop not ten yards from the end of the exit ramp. On this particular day, I have my two-and-a-half-year-old rescue puppy along for the ride. So. there we are, rush hour, end of a busy ramp, cars flying by at 55 to 60 mph, unable to really get over because of where we ended up stopping. I climb out the passenger side door to look at the damage. Not only did I NOT blow a tire, but my tire is no longer connected to the car. Luckily, because I was turning into that side, the tire has wedged itself under the car’s frame at an odd angle. Later, I find out that the wrong size lug nuts were used by the last owner, and they have all sheared clean off, causing the tire to disconnect while going 50 mph. As I’m trying to grab our things and get my poor, frightened pup ready to get out of the car, a beautiful classic Jaguar Convertible pulls over in front of us. The passenger jumps out and walks over.)

Gentleman: “Hey, you doing okay?”

(I am just getting my puppy, Todd, out of the car onto the grass.)

Me: “I think so. I’m…”

Todd: *frantic, overwhelmed barking*

Me: “I’m so sorry. He is a bit overwhelmed. We are going to walk off the highway and make some calls.”

Gentleman: “Is it a tire? I could help you change it quickly if…” *noticing the awkward angle of my not flat tire* “On second thought, I don’t think that is going to cut it. Why don’t you let us give you a ride off the highway at least?”

(The driver of the Jaguar is a tiny, blonde woman.)

Woman: *waves* “Come on, sweetheart!”

Me: “I really appreciate the offer but I have Todd with me, and I wouldn’t want to get fur or–“

Gentleman: *cuts me off* “Nonsense! We have dogs, too; he will be no trouble. Come on. Let’s get you two off this busy highway.”

(As we walk over, I realize that the convertible has a backseat bench, but is so tiny that you can only sit in the front two. Before I can say anything:)

Gentleman: “I’ll jump the fence and meet you over at [Restaurant].” *proceeds to walk away*

Woman: “Oh, look at you two! Get in the front seat; your dog can either sit on the floor or on your lap.”

Me: “Are you sure it’s okay? We can just–“

Woman: “I insist! Now, get in, so we can get out of here. This is a terrible spot to be broken down.”

(We get situated, which is a little tricky, seeing as I have trained Todd to not get into the front seat of vehicles, but we are soon ready to go. Suddenly, I realize that the gentleman is walking back toward us.)

Gentleman: “I may have both underestimated the height of the fence and overestimated my climbing abilities so…”

Woman: “Well, get your a** in the back, then, and hang on!”

(He climbs onto the back of the car, his feet the only part of him that fits on the back bench, and we drive along the edge of the highway looking like a one-car parade. He even waves at a few passing cars along the way. As we drive, I find out that they were behind me when I first pulled over, and had driven around taking four different exits to get back to me on the side of the road. They drop me off, but they refuse to leave before making sure I have a fully-charged phone, a few bottles of water for me and Todd, the number for two different tow companies, and the name of the gentleman’s buddy’s auto shop. Then, as I am thanking them, the tiny blonde shoves $40 into my hand.)

Me: “I really can’t accept–“

Woman: “Well, we refuse to take it back, so I suppose you will have to pay it forward when you can.” *winks at me before giving me a big hug*

(They drove off with a few fewer bottles of water, 40 fewer dollars, and dog hair all over the front seat of their classic car. There is also a selfie somewhere of us all packed into their tiny Jaguar. I was too shocked to ask for a copy of the photo, or their names, and I still regret that. A terrible drive home was turned into a slightly amusing story of how a girl and her dog got to ride in a classic Jaguar Convertible. My fiance is still jealous.)