Get your slow wipe on.

Oh, did you miss out.
As hard as it is to believe there were no takers for the "Give Adrian a ride from Auburn to the airport two hours away in Birmingham" trip. Wade and I had all of the enjoyment to ourselves. Exhilarating conversation, cheesecake, coffee, other words that start with "c". That is until we actually got to Birmingham. As we made the descent off of Red mountain on the well travelled US280 into Birmingham things in Wade's trusty old Rodeo started going haywire. First the radio turned off.
"That's odd."
Then the warning lights came on. All of them.
"Hmm. The engine seems strong."
The pit-pat of rain signaled desperate malfunction. How, you may wonder, did the pit-pat of rain signal the end. Wade hit the wipers and they wiped.
No they wwwwwiiiiiiiipppppppppeeeeeeeedddddddd. Sssssllllllloooooooowwwwwwwlllllllyyyyyy.
We couldn't help but laugh, the wipers had become worthless. And it was really funny.
So I'm guessing it was the alternator. We pulled into the Summit and made phonecalls. The cavalry soon arrived (Bryan Meadows) and I made it to the airport on time.

Aside: I witnessed a quarter life crisis of sorts. Not really but it's fun to call it that. Bryan has just bought a house. Moved out of an apartment and bought a house. He owns a company. He leaned over in deep thought (To Bryan's wife, fear not, I'm dramatizing), "You ever miss it?"
"Miss what?", I asked, though I had a pretty good idea of where he was going.
"College."
Slow grin. Quarter life crisis.

I still don't know what happened with Wade's ride. But I do know of at least eight people that missed out on the trip of a lifetime. (That's a stretch, but it sure seemed like it at the time.)