1000 Words Challenge: Damn Robert Frost (West Wing)

[missraye.livejournal.com]

Title: Damn Robert Frost
by: Raye
Fandom: West Wing
Disclaimer: it's not great, but it's done.. and that's a load off my mind..

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Damn Robert Frost.

Sometimes what we remember from High School English Lit can lead to our demise,
or at least an overheated car on the world’s most deserted stretch of road.
I-54.

The clerk at the gasoline station said that I-54 was a scenic roadway. Do you
see anything that looks remotely ‘scenic’ around here? Okay, granted there was
a bit of nature to look at while I waited for my cell phone to magically catch
a signal.

Then again, calling three trees ‘nature’ is like saying Social Security is
little chestnut of a public policy. It doesn’t fool anyone, unless they’ve had
a more than enough to drink.

Too bad I didn’t pick up a bottle of Boone’s at the last gas station.

Yes, don’t laugh too hard, I’m hard up enough to consider drinking Boone’s.
Sure, it looks like the adult version of Kool-aid, but at least it can put me
to sleep when I’m some road-side hotel and the springs are working their way
through the cheap sheets and into my back.

I shift in my seat and fiddle with the electric knob-thingy on the door,
wouldn’t you believe it... just my luck.. the window doesn’t- whoa...wait...
hold on...my seat is moving. Okay.. so I should have paid more attention when
the nerd at the car-rental was explaining the buttons...

Sometimes, it doesn’t pay to be a smart ass. Sure, I’m a powerful smart ass...
third most powerful...

A car flies past and “Damn it!” Down goes the coffee and up goes my dry
cleaning bill. “I just had this cleaned!”

I press so damn hard onto the horn that I swear the car’s Japanese logo will
forever be ingrained into the palm of my hand. The ass in the Porsche
disappears on the horizon. If I get Santos elected, I’m going to sick the IRS
on that bastard.

Where the hell are the Good Samaritans these days? I check my watch and sigh.
Okay, forget GOOD Samaritans... I’ll make do with a regular one.. I’m gonna be
late enough as it is.

Reaching for the latch on the glove compartment I wrench it open and sort
through the mess looking for the right users manual.

“MP3 player.” No, I know how to use one of those.

“Do it Yourself Oil Changes in a half hour or less.” I wish that was my
problem.

Ah.. this one feels promising.

“Odd Star Emergency Road Assistance.” That’s the one.

The first few pages are easy reading. Of course it helps that they use the
little stick figures to point at the parts on their diagrams. Pictures are
easier than reading about it. Faster... More time efficient.

Fool proof. Yep, that’s what I like about well-written users manuals, they’re
fool proof.

With a little manly posture adjustment I poke at the button marked ‘CALL.’ The
fact that I did not spot this feature before is a testament to the bad lighting
and minimal sunlight allowed in the vehicle due to its shoddy construction.

It takes a few insistent jabs of my finger to get any reaction. Then, in a
sputter of sound, a crackle of static, triumph!

“Odd Star Emergencies, how may I help you?”

“Oh good,” I lean forward in my chair so that the overly happy operator can
hear every word, “Uh, yeah, Hi.”

“Hello, sir.”

“Yeah, this is Josh Lyman-”

“Who?”

“Josh Lyman, I’m-”

“Excuse me, sir, are you an Odd Star Member?”

“Me?” It’s getting hot in here, “No.. I just rented this car and I’m really-”

“Hold on, sir, I have to verify that our service is provided as part of the
rental. Will you hold please?”

My fingers squeeze the steering wheel. “No, I can’t hold-”

Muzak? They’ve got Muzak blaring through the speaker. This can’t be happening.
“They put me on hold.”

It’s inconceivable. “They put me on hold!”

Really, this day couldn’t get any worse. “They put me on hold?”

It seems like forever and I’ve checked the rear view more times that I’ll admit
to and damn it if the music wasn’t growing on me. That and there was this woman
talking over the music. I’m nervous and I’m late, so I’m not really
listening... but she’s got this South Carolina thing going on and it’s really
very charming.

So while I’m avoiding the thought of my political career going up in smoke, I
give a moment or two to imagine Donna with a Southern accent.

Yeah, it’s getting warm in here. “Hello? Hello? Can I get some help here?”

“Yes, sir? May I help you?”

“What?” I lean closer to the screen thing and speak loud enough that I know
she’ll hear me. “Yeah, this is STILL Josh Lyman.” I shake my head. “I’m STILL
stuck here.”

“Where is ‘here,’ Mr. Lyman?”

I resist the urge to do the old comic double-take. “Do you guys have that
satellite feed... GPS thing?”

“Well sir, to be honest, it seems that the vehicle you rented-”

“Yeah?”

“The GPS was never activated.”

I lay my forehead on the steering wheel. “This is a joke, right?”

“Really, sir. Customer service is not something that we joke about.” She took
in a long indrawn breath. “Our Odd Star company policy states that we are
strictly prohibited from-”

“Okay okay.. yes, thank you for issuing the standard disclaimer... and now if
you’ll just tell me how I’m going to get some help here?”

There was a long aching pause on the line. “Sir, we’re attempting to activate
the LoJack system-”

“Why do I hear a BUT in your tone?”

“Well, sir, I’m pretty sure the police will be able to find you, put our direct
link to the local police in your area has not been setup.”

“So?”

“We’ll be able to get the police there... the problem is, they’ll probably
arrest you for auto theft.”

Really, as appealing as poets of old make it sound, sometimes there’s a reason
why it’s the road less travelled.