What happened to the van was this:

Happily putting down the road, fantasizing about Christine's happy face when she got the little bottle of Irish Creme International Delights Non-Dairy Creamer, gently ignoring the sound of "Aladdin" playing in the background, wondering what the idiotard in the car beside me was going to do, wondering how the movie I was taking to her house, "Lost in Translation," was going to be...

And then I felt this little surge, and then I had no power steering, no power brakes - no wait, I just had no power at all!

Quickie lesson for all at my expense (please keep in mind that the 'expense' is the friggin' heart attack I had when this was explained to me): If you can avoid it, do NOT let the police call a tow truck for you. If they offer to push your vehicle out of traffic, let them, and call the tow truck your own damn self. Yeah, it may cost you 50� if you, like me, do not have a cell phone. But I've now learned the hard way that if you let the cops call the tow truck, it can cost almost twice as much. Like, instead of a $45 hook-up fee, it was $75. And would you believe that the cop doesn't see a PENNY of that mark-up?

The nice tow truck driver explained this to me on the way to the mechanic. I couldn't believe it! $30 extra because a COP dialed the fuckin' number instead of me?

I told him that the cop had offered to push me off the side of the road OR call the tow truck. He gently assured me that I should have taken the push. Now, while this may make the guy sound like an asshole, I should tell you that he gave me the lower rate, and that's not even that important, since it's covered by my insurance AND (up to $50) the warranty. This is for the benefit of all you wonderful people.

Anyway, the total bill adds up to over $800, all of which (except for $20 for the fuel filter) is covered by the warranty. So all is well, and the van is running, and I'm going to try to get to Christine's again. OY!

the last trail...the next path