My childhood dream came true. As I was leaving downtown New Albany I noticed other drivers were passing me up.

I mean, I know my driving is not that spectacular, but come on. I looked into my rear view mirror and noticed smoke was bellowing out from underneath my car. I looked at my gauges and the heat gauge had maxed out.

I quickly pulled over, turned my car off and noticed that smoke was seeping from underneath the hood of the car.

Frantically I called my daddy, because that is naturally what a grown ass 24 year old should do. He thinks my car is on fire and that I need to call 911.

Here are two fun facts about me: I hate calling people and I have no sense of direction.

The Emergency Dispatch Operator asks me where I am. I reply with, “I am on 264 between the State Street exit and Grant Line Road.” Her response was “you mean 265.”

The next question asked was if I was driving east or west.

At this point I became Tina Belcher and all that exited my mouth was “uuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhh.”

Finally, after what seemed like forever, a huge fire truck pulled up with sirens blaring.

They stepped out all official like and I am just standing there like a dork holding onto my art piece hoping the wind doesn’t take it from me.

They opened the hood of my car only to find antifreeze spewed everywhere, burning on the engine.

Feeling like an idiot I say, “thanks” and proceed to try and find a ride to school.

Mind you a friend of mine drove by, and even honked at me on his way to class.

After many calls and no answers one of the firefighters informed me that they couldn’t leave me alone on the highway.

Eventually, they offered me a ride to IU Southeast.

As I struggle to hoist my short self into the fire truck, two firemen are standing on the highway holding my art supplies.

Red faced, we proceeded to IUS.

While driving, the firefighters gave me a lesson on friendship.

According to them I need to re-evaluate what friendship means, because friends don’t honk when they see someone stranded on the side of the road.

As we pulled closer to Knobview Hall I slide a little further down into my seat as I felt the tingle of embarrassment resurfacing my face.

Once stopped a fireman helped me exit the truck and assisted me with my backpack and art supplies.

While walking into class, I beat myself up for calling 911 when my car wasn’t even in flames.

Then I remembered that these people are the same people who rescue cats from trees.