Several years ago I became a member of AAA. At the time I always thought that AAA was designed for seniors, living out their last few years of their lives by driving across country in luxurious Winnebago’s. I resisted becoming a member because the very notion of this little card in my wallet meant that I was no longer an irresponsible youth completely opposed to staying at any place that would offer a AAA discount or using any sort of coupon or discount. Years later, I’m a proud card carrying member and even upgraded my membership this past spring to some super-elite class. I’ve never been more proud to belong to such an elite club in my life.
Having a AAA card is like having access to an army of Knights in Shining Armour ready to come to your rescue. It’s like being a member of a secret society that gives you amazing discounts. It’s like a friend that’s always there for you, night and day to help you with those pesky little tasks such as saving you from certain murder on a dark stretch of road in the middle of nowhere. But it’s more than that and I’m not afraid to say this right now, I think it’s been long enough where I can honestly admit this … I LOVE AAA.
If you’re not willing to admit this yourself, let me share a few heart-felt stories that I’ve personally experienced with AAA.
AAA saves you when your brakes go out on your car while driving down a hill into oncoming traffic on a raining evening:
I drive a 20-plus year old German sports car. The thing about owning a vintage car is that things tend to break from time-to-time. It’s expected and it’s why I love her so much. I get to fix things and feel like a real man, I drink beer, get my hands, face, and t-shirts dirty, scrape my knuckles, buy expensive tools and feel like I can do anything. I’ve fixed and/or replaced just about everything on these cars, but I know thee will always be something else that needs tinkering. I have a policy, however, never to touch parts of the car that might be critical to my life and safety. These parts generally fall in the category of things that can stop the car from slamming into brick walls and/or flying off the side of the road. I leave those items to the pros, thus giving me plausible deniability for when things like the following story happen.
The other day I was driving home from the Minnesota Historical Society where I was looking at the archives for one of my new clients at Olson. As we were leaving, it started to rain … a lot. My car doesn’t have air conditioning and it was one of those hot rains. I had to drive with the windows partially cracked to prevent from overheating (myself). The problem with rain and cross-town traffic is that it makes us all retarded. Nearly ever route I started to take ended up looking like a parking lot. It took me an hour-plus to make a 15 minute drive. As I got onto the city streets to make my way to my monthly board meeting, I noticed that my brakes were getting a little soft. I figured it was just the rain causing them to slip. Somewhere along the way, things went from bad to worse. I know I hit a pot hole disguised as a city street, which might have caused the issue, who knows. But nothing can prepare you for what happened next.
I was driving down a hill towards a busy intersection (for those of you in Minnesota, I was driving down Franklin coming up on Lyndale, heading down the hill). I went to apply the brakes and they were gone. I had to push them all the way in at 10 MPH to get the car to slow up even the slightest amount. Rain, busy street, hills … just like the movies.
SIDE NOTE: Earlier in the day I had just filled out my benefits package for my new job. Part of that included my life-insurance policy and naming a beneficiary. A previous time I did paperwork like that (with the documents in the front seat, all filled out), my four-wheel drive went out on my truck while I was driving 55 MPH down a snowy road. I lost all power to the drive-train while a snow plow blocked my ability to get to the shoulder. I’m starting to get a little nervous. From now on, I’m not telling my beneficiary who they are. Seems to risky at this point.
Back to my original story. I was 2 blocks from my meeting and I couldn’t find anyplace to pull in and park. I figured I could find a city street near the meeting and park the car and see what was wrong. I wasn’t sure I would even be able to stop and fortunately the next street was up hill (although that presents the other problem of potentially rolling back down the hill that I didn’t think about). I put my flashers on and slowly made is through the busy intersection and up the next street to another busy intersection that I was able to stop at (barely). I turned onto a side road where a buddy of mine was darting across the street in front of me carrying the booze for the meeting. If he knew I was coming in hot without brakes, I’m pretty sure he would not have been so bold as to play Frogger with me at that moment. I lucked out and found a parking space that was right next to an open driveway. I barely fit, but figured that I was going to need a tow anyway, so I would risk it.
When I got to my meeting I pulled out my AAA card and called the magic phone number. A woman answered, took down all my information, joked about my car and told me she was glad that I was safe. I gave her the details including that it needed to be flatbeded and loaded from behind due to ground clearance. She took down notes and ensured me that I would be taken care of. I told her that I had a meeting to attend and she said, “not a problem, I’ll take down all your information and then when you’re ready, call us back and we’ll have someone out there in 10-40 minutes.” She even asked if I wanted to get a ride home from the tow truck driver (since I was having it towed to my driveway). When the driver came, he turned around and pulled up directly behind me and with a simple signature he carefully loaded my car onto his truck as if it were his own. A group of onlookers gave commentary from the front porch behind us. No, I was not “out of gas, out of gas, out of gas” as the mechanically inclined group might have been insisting.
And unlike most times when a vehicle pulls up with flashing lights to take your car away, I was not ashamed. I was proud. I was proud to stand in the street and take photos as my AAA hero (from Bobby & Steve’s Auto Towing) saved me from certain abandonment. The best part was that I got to ride in the cab of his truck, as well. Dreams do come true. Next week I want to see if I can hitch a ride on a Fire Engine.
AAA does all sorts of great things for you (and the things they’ve done for me):
- Provides discounts and exclusive access at road-side motels when you’re driving from Las Vegas to the Grand Canyon
- Provides a 15% discount at the Albertville Banana Republic (true)
- Provides free maps for cross-country road trips
- Provides discounts and bar vouchers of $50 for expensive hotels in Santa Monica, CA (last night)
- They’ll come push your broken-down Honda Passport into your garage in the middle of the winter when a snow emergency forces you to get her off the street.
- 50% discounts on rental cars (if you remember to book it through them)
- DVM services (see below)
- Home & Away Monthly Magazine
- Discounts and access to various parks and recreation areas
- Free passport photos
I could go on forever. Basically, I’m saying that if you’re not a current member, you should be. Not convinced, this next story should seal the deal.
AAA saves you from having to go to the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV):
Like many of you, I’m constantly frustrated with governmental services, the worst of which being the DMV. At the DMV everyone is treated equally, which is perhaps why I despise it so much. The person with the 14th DWI has the same rights and privileges as we do. As does the non-English speaking foreigner who find it necessary to repeatedly cheat on the written driver’s test (this is a true story that I saw first hand) and the 16 year-old kid who will most likely door-ding me in the parking lot. Maybe it’s me, but it seems like the DMV attracts every strange person in the city and invites them to linger around for no apparent reason. We all wait in the same painfully long line and are all served halfheartedly by the same grouchy government employee. Do I think I deserve special rights? Of course not. Do I wish there was a way to avoid going to the DMV … of course I do. And it’s ok to admit that you want this dream as well.
But where would a magical place like this exist? Triple-A, naturally. Yes, it’s true. I’m not making this up. The AAA in St. Louis Park, MN (and many other locations across the country) have a full DMV operation. I got the suggestion from my friend, Nate Kadlac this past spring when I realized that license tabs on every one of my cars had expired and I was on the last day to get them done or face a big fine (ask me how I know). The DMV was naturally closed (it was probably past noon or something), but AAA was open and ready to serve. I parked right in front of the building, walked up to a very pleasant hostess who pointed in in the right direction. I walked into a big, modern, brightly-lit waiting room where I was immediately summoned to the desk to conduct my business. The woman at the desk joked with me, smiled, asked me how I was doing and sincerely cared about my answers. I was a god among men that day! I had achieved what so many others have dreamed of for years … I had avoided going to the DMV for an entire year. They offered so many wonderful services that I think I just took them all because I could. It was that day that I vowed to never let my AAA membership expire. I am a member for life!
