Oct. 2022
I should have known I was in for a day of it when Henrietta's emergency brake seized up and no amount of pushing and pulling on the lever, accompanied by a string of hostile invectives, served to produce a release. The little VW bug sat on my daughter's sloped driveway, as immovable as a half-ton boulder. After working up a sweat I gave up and resisted the urge to kick her in the side after slamming .the door and walking away. My well=meaning husband bought the little convertible for our fortieth anniversary because I had often mentioned that some day I would relive my childhood by owning a Volkswagen beetle and I would cruise the country side with the top down and the wind in my hair. .I came to rue the day my little fantasy led to a love/hate relationship with a cream colored money pit.
That however is a story for another day.
Today my daughter Jaimee' had asked me along on a road trip. The family pet had produced nine beautiful puppies, golden doodles, much in demand these days and she was heading south to deliver one of the pups to her new family. At nine weeks the beautiful merle female was already twice the size of one of those fru fru yippy little hairballs that always get on my last nerve. These dogs are beautiful and sweet-natured. And inclined to motion sickness.
Jaimee came prepared. She had large bath towels, a roll of paper towels, wet wipes, and plastic bags. Since anxiety is a large factor in stomach upset it was decided that I would drive and Jaimee would hold Kirby, thus, hopefully, reassurring her and keeping her breakfast inside where it belonged. This worked beautifully. For about a mile.
We live in a beautiful part of the country with rolling hills, lots of curves, and little dips and crests in the roadway that challenge even the cast iron stomach. Kirby did not possess such a constitution. Jaimee was kept busy mopping up things I didn't choose to look at, keeping my eyes on the road and the GPS instead. After several upchucks, the smell of urine wafted through the vehicle and Jaimee started to laugh and announced that yes, she now had been peed on too.
All of a sudden there arose a loud clatter from under the hood of the SUV. Since we were hurtling down the interstate quite a few things went through my mind as I slowed down and pulled off the side of the road. We sat there a few minutes, the three of us, in the now-silent vehile and mulled over our options. All the gauges read normal. the engine was humming along nicely. The terrible rattle was gone. It sounded a great deal like a big stick was flapping around in the motor and it stopped as soon as we were parked beside the road.
Semi trucks were passing us, way too close for comfort, the air from their big rigs noticably moving us when they flew by us. Sitting where we were, unable to move further off the road to a safer place, I decided to try driving to the next exit. I maneuvered back onto the highway and all was well until suddenly it wasn't. The clacking noise started up again but the vehicle moved fine without any warning lights or buzzers. Only that terrible flapping sound. And suddenly it was gone. We both heard a slight sound toward the rear of the suv, like as if something had broken loose and bounced along the length of the vehichle and shooting out the back, but we saw nothing. And nary another foreighn sound was heard. So we did what any non mechanical person would do: we pretended it never happened and plowed on down the road.
We stopped to give ourselves and the dog a break. After walking, watering, and disposing of a very full barf bag we were back on the road again. Kirby settled right down on Jaimee's lap and fell asleep and wasn't sick again. The pungent smells in the car didn't seem to bother her at all. The same couldn't be said for the two humans.
After meeting Kirby's new family who were lovely people and had an instant connection to their new charge we switched places with Jaimee driving and me programming the GPS for the trip home. Thta was a mistake. I put in my address instead of Jaimee's. After all, I reasoned, we live 22 minutes apart. When we get close to home we'll know the way, right? It didn't occur to me until we were in Columbus that out trusty navigation system was bringing us in through the backwater of the region, determined to reach my house first. This added many miles to our route since my car was at Jaimee's house therefore we needed to go there first. (Paul had run down and wrestled the emergency break loose so I could drive home).
We meandered through one hole-in-the-wall town after another, eventually getting rather hungry but finding a bathroom was becoming a priority. Finally we reached Warsaw, a blip on the map that boasted not only a place that sold ice-cream and sandwiches but also a little diner across the street. Since Jaimee was still smelling rather pungent we opted for the place with outdoor tables. I walked in the nearest door while Jaimee locked up the car. I waited my turn while I read the menu on the wall. When Jaimee came I opened the door for her and a man who was leaving with his ice-cream cone followed me to the door and rudely exclaimed, "Out or in, out or in??!!" He looked annoyed and we knew we had committed some small town faupaux. but it took a few seconds before we realized what it was. We had gone in the out door! How terrible. Things started taking on a rather twilight zone feel at that point. As we walked out the door, never having ordered in our horror at having committed such a crime, a woman almost ran over Jaimee (or was it the other way around??) and she said, "I didn't know if you were coming or going!" Also with an agrieved air as if we had somehow committed the unpardonable. what was it with this town and their door issues??
Since there was no bathroom and the need was becoming rather urgent we tromped across the street and waded through the line at the diner, headed straight to the facilites and took care of business. We then returned to the sandwich place across the street and entered through the IN door. Jaimee mentioned to me that she was wanting some deep fried mushrooms. I ordered myself a cheeseburger with everything and some fires. Any thought of healthy food was long gone. I needed food therapy after all the days experiences. I told the man behind the counter we want our food to go. He smirked and said, as if he was talking to an idiot, "that's the only kind we have." I felt my hackles rising and said, "Well you have tables outside." "Yes," he said, "but we put everything in a bag and you can take it out there to eat." WHATEVER I thought, but didn't say it.
Jaimee' started to order when I pointed to the tiny little note taped to the glass above the counter. "We are out of mushrooms." it said. I felt manacle laughter threatening at this revelation but managed to control myself. And then the IN door opened and about seven people walked in. Was it my imagination or were they all quietly staring at us? The man behind the counter told us to wait outside and he'd let us know when our food was ready. We move through the OUT door and sat at a table quietly discussing whether maybe these people were all zombies and we were about to be eaten alive.
Jaimee' was limping badly because she has a game hip that acts up, something that started when she was still running a lot. I told her that if we do get caught up in the walking dead she didn't need to fear. The way she was hobbling along and as bad as she smelled, the zombies would think she's one of them. A sudden sharp rapping at the window close to our table got our attenting and inside was the man who took our orders, rather sternly indicating that our order was ready. We started laughing rather wildly, Jaimee grabbed our bag of food and we made for the car.
The food was good but I couldn't shake the feeling that we'd be safer once we got out of the twilight zone. And I couldn't help but wonder if there's something wrong with us that we thought the day rather extraordinarily fun. We come from a family that tends to laugh at the most bizarre things. Like vomit and dog pee and rude waiters in small towns.
No comments:
Post a Comment