Prank Calling Automotive Assistance

So here's what happened. All I wanted was to spend some time with my nephew (my best friend's 100 lb. 2 yr. old golden retriever) during my vacation. So, around lunch time today, I go over there and pick him up so he can come and spend the afternoon sleeping at my house while I watch television and pretend that I'm going to do some work. When we load up, Colin (best friend's husband) puts him in the front passenger seat. Now, despite the fact that he is huge, I think nothing of this. He rides up there all the time. No big deal. He curls up in the seat and sometimes he looks out the window to you know...check things out. He's a very observant dog.

Well, today, he's got his head over on the console so that it can be on my arm, very loving and sweet-like. I say to him, "Wrigley, watch the gear shift." And like most people who own pets, I assume naturally that he understands what I've just said.

Well, we carry on down I-26, headed towards Harbison. About a mile away from Piney Grove Road, I suddenly feel as though something has fallen out from underneath my car. The odometer begins to drop at an incredibly rapid pace, and I go from about 70mph to 30mph in a matter of seconds. Trying not to panic, I hit the gas pedal only to hear this very very loud VROOOOOOM noise. So, I ease on over to the side of the interstate and sit quietly for a few moments awaiting the inevitable panic attack. Wrigley, meanwhile, is sitting up and looking at me as if to say, "What are you doing?" I pull out my cell phone and begin trying to formulate some sort of plan. Who could come rescue me?

I should call AAA!

No, I need someone that I know to come and help me. I'm not equipped for this. But who?

Meredith and Colin are both at work.

Kris is not in town yet...I don't think.

Renee is on a plane (I'm supposed to pick her up at the Airport at 6.00).

I'm pretty sure Anna is still in Laurens.

Poda might be home, but I don't think so.

Joe moved to Charlotte.

After making a mental note to make more friends, in preparation for such occasions as this one, I decide that I'll call Colin. He just left to go back to work. He'll just have to call in and come get me off of the side of the interstate. But, before I dial his number, I figure I'll try to crank the car again...you know...just in case it was kidding with me. It cranks right up. "Wrigley," I say, "this is very odd." I'm afraid to pull back onto the road, thinking that my car might die again. Since I'm so close to my apartment, I decide that I will risk it. My car drives like a dream...no problem.

I am terribly puzzled, and very close to declaring the whole thing a miracle when I suddenly realize something: Wrigley's head is so very close to my gear shift. I eye him suspiciously. "What'd you do Wrigs?" He just looks up at me. At this point, I'm in my apartment complex and I decide to do a little experiment. I shift the car into neutral and try to drive. The result is identical to what happened to me on the interstate.

Now, how funny would that have been if I had actually called AAA?
Me: Hello Mr. AAA Help-man, I can't start my car.
Mr. AAA: Well, perhaps you should think of driving it while it's in the DRIVE gear.