I let my love for procrastination to get the best of me.
In my construction life, I drive a company provided truck. A couple weeks ago, I had a feeling the truck was not performing as it should. Nothing specific; it just seemed sluggish. The engine noise didn’t sound right. It occasionally had a light on the dashboard that said, “service engine soon.” Seriously, what is the definition of soon? Soon, today. Soon, this week. Soon; when you get around to it. I mentioned to my employer that the truck seemed to be having problems.
Boss: Why don’t you take it in and have it checked out?
Me: That’s what I am going to do. I think I’ll wait until after the holidays.
By now you know where this is going. Well, don’t start scolding me. My employer owns that truck; he should have ordered me to get the truck fixed if he really wanted it fixed. I carry things in that truck. Things I use everyday, it is a pain in the (construction language) to be without my truck.
Well, the truck died; in the left turn lane of the busiest intersection of town. Let’s talk about what happened after that.
After trying for a minute or so to re-start the truck I called my office. I explained my predicament to the office manager. Luckily for me she told me our employer had just left the office and would be driving right by me in a couple of minutes. I looked up the road and I could see his vehicle coming.
I am about to be rescued. I jumped out of the truck, standing in the street and started waving my arms. My employer was talking on his phone. He didn’t even look at me. He drove right on by. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed his phone. Of course he didn’t answer, he was already on the phone. I tried texting. He didn’t return my text.
I have now been blocking the left turn lane for several minutes. I called my office again to ask them to send a tow truck. The office manager informed me she has received two phone calls complaining because “some guy in your company truck is blocking traffic”.
Hundreds of cars are driving by. Some of the drivers are waving (one finger on each hand). Absolutely, no one is stopping. While on the phone with my office, I noticed the police were behind me. A young female police officer walked up to me and asked, “Is your truck not running?” My mind was racing with about a thousand things Monner would like to say. I held back. I told her my truck was not running and asked if she would pull the truck off the road. She told me she could not pull my truck off the road but she could push it. I’m really having trouble being nice now.
Officer: I’m not sure where to push you.
Me: Do you see the mechanics shop right there? (Maybe 100 yards up the road)
Officer: Oh, I can’t push you that far.
Me: OK, why don’t you push me around the corner and off the road?
Officer: Ok, I can do that.
The police officer used her car to push the truck around the corner. I thanked her and she asked for my ID. She told me to have a nice day and she was gone.
Elaine and I pulled the truck the remaining 85 yards to the mechanics shop. I have learned my lesson. Whether I choose to use what I have learned remains to be seen.
Some of you might have seen me standing in the street. Some of you might have waved a finger or two at me. Two of you called the office. That’s why I live in NoCo. Everyone is helpful and friendly.
Our crazy lives!