Thursday, August 21, 2008

Busted Truck

Mikey went through a period where everything she touched ended up broken. She fretted about whether it was her or not. At one point, she posted about breaking her truck. Yeah. You know what? Mikey is an amateur. Me? I can bust a truck, people.
Yesterday, Cara and I went to Edinboro University with my sister and a truckload of her most precious things (three boxes of teddy bears, five boxes of food (the irony here is that the woman has no stomach!), I microwave, a refrigerator, shoes, fifty of her most favorite outfits (Cara advised her to wear an outfit, turn it inside out and wear it once more, and then throw it away. She had enough clothes to last the entire school year, and we would not have to load her back up when she returns home) , bed stuff, even a little plastic foliage arrangement, her bike...oh jees. Did I mention that my sister is a hoarder?
We got her unloaded and then went out to eat. We stopped at Walmart for a bike lock and a surge protector. Then we headed back to help organize her little room. When we got to the college, I discovered that the truck made a horrible noise when I tried to put it in park or neutral. I tried to shut it off. The key assembly would not turn. The truck began to smell burn-y. I popped it back into drive, and sat there with my foot on the brake. Cara's cell was dead. I hadn't brought mine along, and my sister had an idea that she really wanted to take hers into the dorm when she went. She called Tim while I sat in a running truck, the only thing between my sister's dorm being turned into a parking garage was my foot on the brake. Tim did not answer. So basically, we threw my sister out of a running truck, and set off. I felt badly about that, but we had a hundred miles to drive, and the needle was inching toward empty.
Cara, being stalwart and alert in all emergency situations promptly dozed off while I drove carefully, planning. I figured that if the truck did burst into flames, I would pull over, tell Cara to get out in a calm voice, and then simply ease the thing into a tree in an open space away from all buildings and people and then get out myself, and let the dang thing go up in flames. (Do you like how I made it look like an option...I'd let it go up in flames.) Anyways, I felt better to have a plan. Plans are good. I always feel so much better when I have a plan. As we traveled down the road the trip home seemed way longer than the trip there. We had no radio. It was dead. I had no idea what time it was. Cara's little head bob-bob-bobbed along as she dozed, slack jawed. And the gas gauge got more and more solidly in the red. This troubled me. I went off the pre-arranged route and went home a different way, figuring that if we did run out of gas, at least I would be near an area where I knew people. For the first time it struck me...what the heck was I going to do when I got home? And also it struck me that I had to pee. It wasn't really at the point where the need could be described as urgent, but I knew from past experience that it would get there. I began to rue the two large ice teas that I had at Pizza Hut with my vegetable pizza.
We finally got to the top of our own mountain, and Cara woke up. She said, "Well, at this point, we can coast home." I said, "Yeah, but what are we going to do when we get there? I can't shut the truck off. And I do so have to pee."
We both began to pray that our genius with all things mechanical would be home when we got home. But lo, one of us had displeased God, and our prayers were not answered. I told Cara it was probably her, and sent her in to our phone, while I sat in the yard in our running truck, with my foot on the brake, wishing I was a man. (The world is their urinal.) Cara came out with the phone, and had me put it in park while she said "Can you hear that?" He could. Moreover, he dropped what he was doing and came straight home. That's when I started to get nervous. When Tim treats it as an emergency, why then it most certainly has become one. Me and my bladder waited nervously. Nervous and a full bladder? Never a good combination. Never.
Tim showed up, listened with his eyebrows all at their questioning place, had me drive it to the garage, and pulled the fuel pump. It died. Then he told me to put it into park and leave the key in it. When I dropped it into park, the engine began to roll over. Tim said, "Hold it, hold it, hold it! (my immediate thought was, Oh, believe me, I am... ) "The starter is kicking in," Tim said, and he disconnected the battery too.
Silence never was so golden. Tim stood there staring at the truck. He's got no clue what's wrong. Cara helpfully noted that she doesn't have nearly as much stuff as Eileen, and that we can 'probably' get it all in two cars, if we take the back seat out of the Intrigue. We walked back up to the house. Tim said, "You probably did not stop for milk." I did not yell. I'm good that way.
Mikey broke the armrest off her truck.
That ain't nothing. I know how to bust a truck!


steviewren said...

Something like this happened to me once. I drove to the grocery store and I couldn't turn the car off. The key would not budge. It was a Saturday, no garages open, no husband at home, in fact I had the car packed and kids loaded to go to a camp ground about an hour away to meet him for a weekend of camping. To make a long story short I FINALLY found a guy at a gas station you showed me how to disconnect the distributor and the battery. I FINALLY arrived at the camp ground to find husband delirious from a cat bite he received the day before he had left for said camp ground with youngest son. Needless to say, I loaded whole family into car that will not turn off without heroic measures on my part, drove back home to the hospital where husband spent the next week. I might have you beat on this one! : )

Pencil Writer said...

Yep! I think steviewren's got you beat, Deb! The cat bite delirium put her experience over the top of yours.

However, I guess I'm to congratulate you on the bladder holding up under the undue stress? That is ALWAYS a plus. Always.

So, are you gonna tell us when Tim figures out what's wrong with your truck? Are you going to have to work from your car now--hauling around all that smelly mosquito bait and spray stuff?

I hope your sister kinda appreciates all that you have endured to help her out. Well, at some point. Hope she does. And, thankfully, Cara's the trooper she is--snoozing in such a way as to keep you calm and collected whilst you made plans. No interference whatsoever. Good girl!

Mikey said...

First - I died laughing reading this. Ohhhh girl. That's so damn funny! Looking for a nice tree to put it up against when it catches fire, lmao!!
Tim asking for milk... good job on not smacking him right there, lol.
And I can't believe TIM doesn't know what's wrong??? How is that possible? You've given him a challenge haven't you?
I eagerly await the outcome of this. That's crazy. Yep, you got me beat.
Stay away from your washer, just in case it's a catchy thing, lol

Debby said...

Stevie Wren - okay. You win. No delirium, although I wondered if Tim was a bit 'tetched' asking if I'd stopped for milk.

PW - Bladder control. Always a good thing. Always. About fell out of my chair laughing. Now I know how they came to name those pads.

Tim is pretty sure it's the ignition cylindar, and that the key is actually locked in the 'on' position. A new one is pretty pricey. Tim's headed to his favorite shopping mall -- the junkyard.

Scotty said...

Wow, makes my days look tame by comparison - no complaints here, no sirree.

I'd have enquired about bread first, maybe...


steviewren said...

Debby, that was the problem with mine. The mechanic gave me my key back with the whole switch cylinder attached to it. You couldn't get it lose.

I am so sorry, in my eagerness to relate my sad tale, I forgot to acknowledge your ordeal. You deserve lots of recognition indeed for your ability to control your bladder for an inhuman amount of time! You beat me on this one...I would have arrived home in a humiliating shape.

Debby said...

Scotty and Mikey - pretty funny stuff, aincha?

Now it's funny. While it was happening, yeah, not so funny. I'm not touching the washer. And I'm pretending that it is because I'm afraid that I'll break it!

Pencil Writer said...

Debby, I've debated whether or not I should fess up--and apparently I am. Fessing up. All your "nearly falling off your chair with laughter" was great. I was kinda like Pooh Bear, having to "think, think, think." Then I got what you were saying. Then I got it. I had to laugh too! I'm apparently more like Pooh Bear than I ever imagined--the ALWAYS was placed w/o any intended wit. Now if I could only be that witty on purpose!

Thanks for showing me the light. Always. Yeah. Who'd a thought . . .