Why was I brown bagging it in Queens? Try running over a plastic bag. With a hefty bag inside of it. Which in turn has a dry cleaner’s bag inside of it.. Sort of like a bag turducken. Except this one wound around my driveshaft before tearing out a gasket and melting inside of my rear axle. High five! So after spending a fruitless 40 minutes under the Wallywagon with a dull box cutter, I accepted the reality of the situation and called AAA. But first I had to get a tall boy, since I thought it would add a nice touch of class to accompany my grease-crusted hands and expression of exhaustion as I rode the train home in utter defeat.