Driving was going so well for me...then the wheels came off. Or more precisely, the right front wheel came off. I suppose under the circumstances it could have gone much worse. I was going about 40 on a surface street, and heard a loud crack followed by scraping. I pulled over, and the tire was sitting on the curb next to my car. Now I'm waiting to hear back from the shop about how much damage that whole scraping my way to a stop thing did to my car. I'm also still trying to figure out how the heck this all happened. This was near the end of a 40 mile drive where I didn't hit anything on the road that I noticed, and it's been about a month and a half since I last had the car looked at in the shop.
In less frowny news, people in general are awesome. This happened at 11:00 at night, and it was less than a minute until a good Samaritan pulled over, checked to make sure I was okay, and offered to grab me some water and tacos while I waited for the tow truck. After I got towed, the tow truck driver offered to drive me back home so I didn't have to wait for a cab at midnight.
