THIS IS LAURIE - JOHN'S WIFE (Hi Britt
). John started reading me this thread and I felt the need to contribute. . .
So, we're on this road trip.
Taking the new car all the way to Indiana
Had a great time, met some nice people, saw some beautiful country, met up with old friends, favorite aunt and uncle, lots of fun. Time to spend 4 days in the car to return by THURSDAY NIGHT when I HAD TO BE HOME to relieve my parents from guardianship duties of Shaggy and Tettster. I have PROMISED my mother that if we break down I will hop on a Greyhound bus or an airplane to be back in time for them to go on their vacation Friday morning.
Things are good; we're seeing cows (every one of them bigger than our pregnant cows here in Arizona), horses, beautiful farms, Lincoln's home in Springfield, Illinois, Mark Twain's home in Hannibal, Missouri, eating every few hours in quaint small town diners with stately old court houses and beautiful old churches when we need to stretch our legs, la la, la la, la la.
Had a hard time finding a motel and some dinner about 10pm on our second night. Pulled into an older dive of a motel somewhere in Seneca, Kansas after a very long day. Couldn't get luggage out of the front trunk because it wouldn't open - no one cares, we're too tired. Get up to a frosty morning and an early start, needing to get the trunk popped because we aren't going anywhere without fuel.
Needing gasoline quickly becomes the least of our problems. Car won't start. Car not even thinking about starting. We go from no trunk to no fuel to no spark to no crank in about 5 minutes. I'm looking for the nearest Greyhound station. We haven't seen even a Volkswagon bug in the last two states we've been in. Repairs by others are going to be hard to come by. We begin calling several of you wonderful 914 guys for advice and moral support.
We tinker in the parking lot on the main drag for three hours and backfire our way into the hearts of the locals. The woman who owned the hotel was so thrilled that she granted me a whole 15 minutes of late checkout time even though her little motel was 95% empty. I find myself sitting in the driver's seat
(an anomaly) with a mate who is in his hyper-communication mode. He's oh so careful and precise - /"DON'T TURN THE KEY", "I WON'T TURN THE KEY" / "TURN THE KEY HALF WAY", "I'M TURNING THE KEY HALF WAY"/ "TURN THE KEY ALL THE WAY AND TRY TO START THE CAR", "I'M TURNING THE KEY ALL THE WAY AND TRYING TO START THE CAR"... Eventual success on all counts and we're on the road again . .
Long day after a late start. Goal is to reach my brother in Colorado Springs. My 4 year old niece is trying to be patient about our arrival. Finally give up on our destination for the night after a 9pm meal saps the last of our energy. We'll be there bright and early the next morning, hopefully soon after she wakes up. In another dive motel in Limon, Colorado. We have an entire building to ourselves if we don't die of chlorine gas poisoning from the indoor pool. I finish showering while he braves the car starting process. Won't start. No biggie. We've got experience. "Come out here and help me" "Get in the car" "Start the car"
Well - gone is my oh so careful hyper-communicating mate. My normal guy mate is standing on the passenger side at the engine doing his usual whatever it is that he does. I start the car just like I did yesterday and the car lurches forward.
It lurches forward onto his foot. "YOU'RE ON MY FOOT!!!" Oh no "YOU'RE ON MY FOOT - THE CAR'S ON MY FOOT" Panic - I'm breaking his foot RIGHT NOW. I can't start this car to drive it off his foot because the car won't start "YOU'RE ON MY FOOT" I'm gonna have to find a hospital "PUT THE CLUTCH IN" I don't have a working car to drive him to the hospital "PUT THE CLUTCH IN" Maybe my brother will help me get to a hospital - he's only two hours away "PUT THE CLUTCH IN" synapses connected, adrenaline rush clears for a moment and I put the clutch in. My surly mate pushes the car off of his foot. Dead silence. (Cudos to him)
A strange and awkward silence ensues. I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing. He seems to be able to walk...in fact, he's walking it off...maybe he won't hate me...maybe he'll be okay...oh my God I think he's okay...a few more minutes and it's not throbbing, yet...several more minutes and he's still walking and it's not throbbing...okay, I finally quit biting my cheek and let out a peal of laughter...I don't think he's going to kill me...maybe for laughing, but not for his foot...
I said I'm so sorry for driving over your foot
He said it's not the driving over my foot that was the problem, it was the parking on my foot that was the problem