Camper RV Story

Camper RV Story

So, I was driving from Seattle to Chicago in my ex-girlfriend's camper.
She bought this ugly beast to travel in. Then, she got kinda deported, in a way and we found ourselves driving her to Ottawa.
Well, she was going to Ottawa, I was to leave her in Chicago.
She was back in town the other day, so it reminded me of how much I hate her.
Just joking. But, it did remind me of one of many camper stories.
This camper story occurred – wait, when I say camper, I mean RV.
Anyway, so now this is the RV story.
In this episode of RV Stories, I will speak upon...wait:

RV STORY: TIRE OUTAGE

So, there we were, on the last leg of the trip, almost to Chicago.
We were on....a freeway and I was on mushrooms. Plenty of them. The boredom of living in an RV, coupled with the depression of driving with your girlfriend to your ultimate demise as a couple really left a hole.
I filled it with mushrooms.
So, I'm pretty high when we hear a gunshot.
Well, it was Chicago, so I figured it was a gunshot. But, in fact, it was a tire blowing out.
Panic ensued and we decided to pull over. The problem was, there was no shoulder. So, we kept driving and fighting about where to pull over.
I began hiding drugs with the assumption the cops would check out the RV on the side of the road that was shot at.
So, I start hiding weed and mushrooms in different spots in the RV. Then, I decide that those spots were too obvious, so I hide the stuff again. This goes on as the ex pulls over and begins inspecting the car. Were still fighting about something and I'm becoming more paranoid about the drugs.
Eventually we figure out that it's a flat tire and call triple A.
Then we wait.
And wait.
In the meantime we continue fighting about god knows what and I keep moving drugs around.
Eventually, we decide to try and fix the tire ourselves, but we're both to weak to get the lug nuts off the tire.
So, we wait.
Finally, we call Triple A again and they are no help. They keep assuring us that they're on the way, but they're not.
So, we're getting antsy and the shoulder we're on isn't really that safe. Like, the slightest shift of a driving wheel and someone is going to end up nailing us at 80.
We decide to try and drive to the next exit.
What follows is a large fight that continues through two or three freeways that we continue to get lost on. Finally, we come to an exit and end up at a truck stop.
We think – one of these truckers will help us if we just wait outside the RV with a T-bar and inept looks on our faces.
No one helped.
So, I start trying to remove the tire again and it's not moving.
We're still fighting.
In my anger I throw the tire iron at a grassy knoll.
Eventually, we leave the truck stop and venture into whatever town we were in.
We call triple A again. For whatever reason they couldn't help us. I forgot why now, but I remember yelling into the phone "WHAT THE FUCK IS THE SERVICE YOU SOLD HER IF YOU CAN'T HELP US!"
Finally, we decide to try and make it to Chicago.
We get into Chicago, I'm driving and the ex keeps on accusing me of getting us lost.
Finally, we get to my aunt's and the ex goes to park the RV at a nearby gas station that my aunt had paid to let us park.
Well, my aunt's helping us back in when this homeless dude comes up and says he's the master of backing in and is pretty much just yelling at my ex in gibberish.
Eventually the car is parked.
Following this, another homeless guy comes up and starts telling us what "fucking assholes" we are.
My aunt calls my uncle and he comes out with a bat and he's going back and forth with this homeless dude. It gets to a breaking point and my aunt has to pull my uncle away.
The next day we would go looking for a tire. They would ask us what kind. We would read the serial number of the blown tire. They would say they never heard of it. We would later find that the blown tire was actually the spare. We would get a new tire.
We would find that we had nothing to ever worry about because RV's have two tires for each wheel well and it's safe to drive on just the one.
I think we had Mexican that day.

Pleace,
Matt