Turns out it took a full week and over 2,000 miles for my true self to break my easy streak and cause a little, dopey problem. Today, I drove my car straight into a mud puddle and embedded it firmly in a ditch.

How? Well, I’m not sure really. One minute, I’ve safely exited the highway and am reading the Holiday Inn Express marquis with a mind to enter its driveway. I lean into the very dark driveway, and boom it ain’t no driveway. I undershot it and eased right into the embankment bordering it. Just as I realized my folly, the mud inhaled the front tires of my front wheel drive sweet ride.

Two guys stopped while I was dialing Triple A, both convinced I must be injured in my stunt. (I wasn’t. It was an easy slow roll into sucking mud.) One guy even handed me his business card insisting I call if their were any issue with the tow truck. His card says he’s a “Surveillance Officer” for the county probation office. Also a very nice cop came by and we chatted while the guy came with a winch to yank me out.

Jesus Christ, I just realized I must have no rock and roll edge whatsoever. Two different legal authorities, in the deepest darkest corner of the Southwestern desert, happy to shoot the shit and consider me a lady in distress. Massachusetts plates in a sky blue VW, and I am no fucking threat at all. Goddamn the “fuzz” and their not bashing my head in. Thanks to them, I now know with uncomfortable certainty I am OLD.

A picture’s worth at least a buck-fifty in words on this one, so tomorrow I’ll post the ditched car photo of the veritable shitload I’m trying to upload right now.