I just typed an eloquent post about today’s festivities before Katie’s dog Buddy managed to close the window with his little paws. Further proof that animals do not belong indoors. (But impressive that he managed the apple+w keystroke while quickly traipsing across the laptop).
Let’s continue. (Or, in your case, let’s begin). There are a number of things that one might expect to see when exiting the dinner destination of choice in Auburn, Alabama. Khaki-clad college boys. Layered tank top ladies. Lots of things painted orange.
Or maybe your truck on fire.
Wait, I should back up a few steps to build the tension. I came to Atlanta today to see my friend Sarah, who I hadn’t talked to face to face in months, and then to pick my friend Katie up from the airport and deliver her safely to Auburn. Mission(s) accomplished. Once we hit Auburn is where it gets a bit squirrely. Our dinner destination of choice was the always great in any state Mellow Mushroom Pizza. Good food and conversation ensued, as well as semi-decipherable chatting with the three year old girl at the table next to us and her stuffed animal (that somewhat resembled a skunk. Don’t ask. It’s Alabama… that’s all you need to know).
As we exited Mellow Mushroom for a short walk around quaint downtown Auburn, I see my Honda Passport in the distance and realize that the inside is COMPLETELY FULL OF SMOKE and the white puffy stuff is billowing out of the slightly open driver side window. Minor freak out. Katie managed something along the lines of, “Um… I think your car is on fire” in that amazing interrogative tone that attaches invisible question marks to the ends of sentences.
The following events occurred more or less in the order in which they’re described. I opened the passenger side door and immediately started choking while simultaneously going blind. I then stumbled my way to the driver side door and, having learned my lesson, closed my eyes and held my breath while opening that door and fumbling for the hood release. Surely the smoke is coming from the engine, right? (This is the way someone thinks when they’ve owned an Isuzu Trooper that has blown up on more than one occasion). I pop the hood and… nothing. Welcome to the non-smoking section. The fire isn’t engine-related at all.
“Should I call the fire department?” What the heck is burning? I check under the mats, in the glove box… “Joshua, do you want me to call the fire department?” Something is still on fire. Maybe in the back seat? Nothing… “Joshua…“
And as I open the back tailgate, there it is… a smoldering, smoking, charred TOWEL. Not just any towel, either… one of my favorite towels… ON FIRE. IN MY TRUCK. I toss it out in the street where a crowd of curious onlookers has started to mingle and Katie heads for a nearby bar to procure some water. I stomp out the offending towel as much as possible in my flip flops and turn to see her crossing the street with a pitcher full of water (quite the amazing scene) which she proceeds to empty on the still smoking towel. And thus we narrowly avert disaster. The end.
I figure there are two options. Either someone tossed a cigarette into my open window and it miraculously landed on said towel… or said towel SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUSTED IN THE MIDDLE OF ALABAMA. I vote for option two, as it somehow makes more sense. I have pictures of the entire thing, so i’ll post them on Flickr when I get back home.
We smell like s’mores and campfire. My truck now has a large charred area in the back and the overall olfactory experience of riding with me will never be the same. Welcome to Alabama.
man, that’s hilarious, but sad. maybe you’ll find another favorite towel? alabama is a strange state, but hey, you’ll manage. say, do you want to come to houston while you’re on the road? i’ll buy you breakfast or lunch or dinner or something… c’mon, man! do it!
said Zach
at 4:49am on Thursday
Not many people I know can use “olfactory” in a sentence.
said casey
at 12:56pm on Thursday
I vote for spontaneous combustion. Having been to Auburn a couple of times (well, actually the bustling metropolis of Opelika with brief excursions into Auburn looking for a coffee house open at 6 AM, but I digress), I can tell you that there’s something strange about that place. Hopefully, you managed to conceal your SC tag while franticly stomping on the smoldering towel in the middle of the street while wearing flipflops. I guess if hay can spontaneously ignite so can a towel.
said deafeningsighlence
at 1:55pm on Thursday
you’re sooooo hot.
said mcd
at 2:10pm on Thursday
What is it with you and automobiles?
::note to self, never loan Joshua my car::
said Jason
at 2:33pm on Thursday
Sounds like a professionally done job… Do you have any know enemies in Auburn?
This was an obvious botched murder attempt. Someome wants you dead! Why?
said YSBL
at 2:39pm on Thursday
uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. spontaneous combustion?
hope there wasn’t too much damage to your hoverchariot. poor towely.
said sha
at 3:12pm on Thursday
i thought only drummers spontaneously combusted.
if it was a cigarette, one should be able to CSI the back and find a butt.
or, perhaps God thought your towel was an ant …
said Paul
at 3:53pm on Thursday
I could go CSI on it for you. I like to think that because I watch the show so much I could go CSI on anything…anything.
said Karl
at 9:12pm on Thursday
amazing. it is fortunate that this did not end up worse than it could have. i am sorry to hear of your loss and i join you in the mourning of your favorite towel.
by the way, i find it amusing that you have a favorite towel.
said ryan
at 6:27am on Friday
Fantastic story.
As for the spontaneous combustion: Had you washed the towel recently? Perhaps it became funky to the point of nigh combustibility, requiring only the mere catalyst of heat and sunlight.
Just a theory.
said cameron
at 2:19pm on Friday
are the flip flops ok?:)
said Brandy
at 4:38pm on Friday
It’s not funny…it’s ‘car’ma…
You just seem to be attracted to sad and unusual vehicles…how about shag carpeting, yellow, to patch the hole? Reminds me of the Coca Cola van that I once drove…completely cover inside with yellow shag carpet…of absolutely no use as by then I was married, oh never mind….glad you and passensgers were not in it…on the Interstate…
said Yer Mom
at 9:11pm on Friday
Strangely, I had something similar happen to me….although my car wasn’t on fire, the one next to me was (and all four of my windows were open).
And I was not in Bama, I was in Georgia. Hm.
AND, I had to buy towels to sit on coming home since my seats were wet with soot and water from the fire truck hose which was spraying into my car before I got there to rescue it.
Yeah. Just want you to know I can relate to the extreme-Southern-state car-fire towel episode thing…and what it feels like to smell like a s’more for a day (and have your car interior smell like it for six months).
meg
said meg
at 2:42am on Saturday
Me encantó tu blog, espero que entinedas español, porque entiendo inglés pero no se escribirlo bien :P. Cool
said enterprise fax server
at 4:12pm on Monday
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said cheap life insurance policy
at 8:33am on Saturday