Peppy

My plan was to blog about this in real-time, but somewhere between conversations with the loud tow-truck driver and the eighteen mile ride in a tow truck, I forgot. Peppy needed some servicing, and after being denied at the local BMW dealership, Justin and I decided to head down to the closest MINI dealership in Calabasas. We were doing well on time, and my phone told me that we were only 22 miles away. Suddenly, there was some clunking and some clanking, and Peppy died in the fast lane. Justin managed to roll across three lanes, off the freeway and into an IHOP parking lot. I called Roadside Assistance, and we filled ourselves with pancakes. An hour later, the tow truck arrived and loaded Peppy onto the flatbed. All this time we assumed the tow

 truck would be giving us a lift to the dealership alongside the car. Apparently, this was not part of the tow truck man's plan. After he went on about how he was not AAA (he was wearing a AAA hat), he agreed to take us along. As for now, we do not know how Peppy is doing. This is a terrible situation considering my car is less than two years old, but I am hopeful that Peppy will be easily fixable and back in my possession soon. 

In the mean time, my Enterprise-rented Chevy Cobalt will have to do. Come home soon Peppy!

*Justin heard back from Columbia today, and sadly he was not accepted. Screw Columbia!