Last night, myself and four of my friends were heading out of town to go do some ghost hunting. We got about a half an hour away from where we live and the car started acting up. We were blessed enough to be right by a farm when it decided to totally die. I had to call my dad at 11:00 p.m. to let him know we were stranded. Luckily we found someone to pick us up and take us back home. My dad had to drive two hours today to get here to try and fix it. I'm sure that's not how he wanted to spend his Saturday. I feel kind of bad about it but I guess it just couldn't be helped.