This family trip is almost at its end. I have plugged in the coordinates for the end of route 66 in Santa Monica. Black Betty will soon be retired to her stall at Enterprise wet and ridden hard.
But I never found Santa Monica blvd. I got us lost using waze and Google maps. We ended up somewhere in east LA at a stoplight. Here is where the fun part comes in. It was at that exact moment Black Betty started to bounce. Of course I begin to blame the usual suspects.
ME: "Gowddammit who is effing bouncing back there?"
Them: "Smmmuh? "
ME: "knock it of with the damn bouncing!"
Them: "it's not us we swear it must be dad!"
ME:Gowdammit quite rocking the car.
Little did I know that this was an earthquake. A 6.4. I found out 20 minutes later when we started to argue about music on XM radio. I got so kissed I put on the news. That's when the shit hit the fan and we learned we were in our FIRST earthquake. And at that point we thought it was our ONLY earthquake.
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