Mr. W's truck hates me and other trivia

It's time for the V-Day recap! Yay! (please note the sarcasm)

In a mild attempt to scrape up a tiny little bit of the Valentine spirit, I decided that I would order appetizer salads from Outback carry-out. Mr. W. was steaming shrim, and I thought I could contribute at least a little bit to the meal in my own special way.

I called in my order, and it was to be ready about exactly ten minutes after I planned to leave the office. Perfect! I packed up my stuff and walked out to the truck.

Because Mr. W had the kids, and their carseats won't fit in the truck, he drove the van, and I drove his first love. Okay, well, it's the first new vehicle he ever bought, and he is deeply attached to it. Mr. W's truck and I have never gotten along well. The silly thing shocks the living daylights out of me (and nobody else!) on a really regular basis. Plus, the seats are at exactly the right angle and shape to send my back into spasms and shooting pain down the back of my right leg within 30 minutes of sitting. On top of that, the driver side door will not open normally for me. I have to beat on the thing before it will open while Mr. W just pulls the handle and poof! open sesame. In other words, we both sacrificed in order for me to drive that truck yesterday.

The truck lulled me into a false sense of security by starting right away, and not even shocking me very much when I climbed in (I think it already knew what was in store). When I arrived at Outback, I put the rotten thing in park and switched off the engine only to discover that the steering wheel had locked in such a way that I couldn't jiggle it in order to turn the key. After a minute or two trying futilely to get the thing unstuck, I decided I'd go ahead and pick up our order. Maybe the truck would forget it was me driving, if I gave her a couple of minutes. I opened my purse and found... no wallet! I had left the confounded thing back in my desk at the office. Furious digging hoping to find just one little credit card was fruitless and the steering wheel was still stuck.

After hitting the steering wheel a few times, I called Mr. W and told him he needed to come get me. Sounding tired and testy, he asked me if I'd jiggled the steering wheel. I yelled back that of course I had tried to jiggle the wheel, but it was stuck. Mr. W said they were already home, but he would come on out. Because I was so teed off, and he sounded so tired, I gave it one last try. I pulled the key out of the ignition, swore to the truck that if it didn't start, it's next home would be the junkyard and beat the ever-living-daylights out of the steering wheel. Miraculously, the threats and beating were enough to cow it into (temporary) subservience.

I wound up calling Mr. W back and asking him to just head back home with the girls. I'd run back to the office for my wallet, pick up the takeout and head home.

Meanwhile, the truck ate the keys I needed in order to get back in the building. I could not find them for anything once I was in the office parking lot. Praying for mercy from the security guard, I walked up to the front door only to find it was still unlocked! While disturbing from a security standpoint, I was sorely tempted to blow raspberries back at the truck.

I dashed back to my desk, found my wallet and scurried back to the truck. Armed with the knowledge of how to tame the beast, I gave it the junkyard warning complete with pounding on steering wheel. The truck started right up, and my keys popped out from under the console!

The drive back to Outback was uneventful, and the truck didn't even need reminding of its place when I cranked it back up to drive home.

Halfway home, I realized the little orange line thingy was sitting on 'E' as in , I'm going to strand you on the side of the road. Thinking I didn't need to push my luck that far, I stopped in at the gas station. After putting $30 worth of gas in it, the truck paid me back by shocking my hand so badly, it still hurt 30 minutes later. Stupid truck!

After spending 2 hours enduring my little comedy of errors, I got home only to realize why I'd felt itchy most of the day... I'd managed to put my underwear on wrong side out and not realized all day long.

I wonder if it would behave any better if I conveniently left some salvage/junkyard ads laying around inside the cab...

M.W.