Two seconds. Very small amount of time, wouldn't you agree? Not really enough time to do a whole lot, is it? Well, that's what I thought and then the events of this past Tuesday proved me wrong. Two seconds, as it turns out, is just enough time to ruin plans for a great adventure; plans that have been in the dreaming process for several years. On paper, these plans have been in place since April. Two seconds and WHAMMO....they gone! And the real kicker?? It's not our fault. The ONLY thing that we did in this whole soup sandwich is decide to do business with a certain nationally franchised tire store. That's it. Grab something to drink and sit with me for a few minutes. You're going to want to read this.
For many years, Mr. Snark has dreamed of taking a Wild West road trip. Me, well, not so much. I'd like to see all the things that one would see on such a journey, but just talking about it makes my tailbone HURT! The perfect chance to do it has been elusive...until this summer. I was invited to go to Music Week with my minister of music and others from our church's music ministry. Music Week happened to fall during the state mandated "dead week" for high school sports. As I live and breathe, the light bulb appeared over Mr. Snark's head...Wild West Road Trip. And from there, all the dreaming he'd been doing became something tangible. Being the good engineer that he is, he looked at several maps and scoured the Internet for information. He plotted their course, made reservations and planned special surprises along the way. He and his boyos. The boyos and their daddy...no mama around to remind them of manners and chaste conversation. No mama around to try and rein in the torrent of testosterone. Just the guys and they were oh, so deliriously happy about it.
He took Quicksilver (that's his name for his silver Nis*an Titan)in for an extensive service call and placed an order for new tires. All of this was necessary to make sure the truck could handle what this trip would entail. Mr. Snark took Quicksilver to the aforementioned nationally franchised tire store on Tuesday. He sent text messages indicating that it was taking longer than he expected. Then he sent a message saying that the truck was finally up on the rack getting it's new shoes. Then he sent this message:
(ODG = Oh, dear God!)I didn't have but a minute to digest the text message when the land line started ringing...it was Mr. Snark. Did they scratch the body of the truck with one of the drills they use to remove the lug nuts? Did they bang something into it? Did they back into something? My guesses at how they damaged the truck didn't even come close. "The kid"...that's how someone at the tire store referred to the mechanic working on our truck...backed Quicksilver off the alignment rack. Yep, you read that correctly. Off the rack and over the chocks that are in front of and behind the tires to prevent such a thing. So, in my mind, as Mr. Snark is telling me the story, I picture Quicksilver hanging off the rack...at an angle....and hanging by the drive shaft. (Breathe....don't go passing out on me!) At this point, I'm just going to skip through some of the details. Those of you who are mechanically minded will understand the immediate damage that something like this will do to a vehicle. Those of you who aren't, trust me....it's not good. I will tell you this much, if not for the winch and its bumper mount, I'm all but certain that "The kid" and his two seconds of stupid might have torn the front end slap off!
Mr. Tire Store Manager was eager to do anything and everything that Mr. Snark asked, in efforts to make this right. All repairs. Just tell him. A new drive shaft was ordered but after visiting with the mechanics who had JUST seen Quicksilver for last week's service appointment, it seemed the better to let our insurance company handle it. As one could expect, Mr. Tire Store Manager wasn't happy about this. Hmm, yeah, can't say that I care about how unhappy he might be. I do give him credit for offering to make whatever repairs Mr. Snark thought necessary. HOWEVER COMMA there wouldn't be any repairs to make if not for his employee's two seconds of stupidity. I know what you're thinking...I'mpsycho psychic. Everyone makes mistakes and some of them are costly. Absolutely. I understand and accept that as a fact of this human condition. Some mistakes carry weightier consequences and this is one of them. "The kid's" head wasn't where it should have been, which is precisely why we're in this nasty kettle of fish.
Our twenty-first anniversary was Thursday (7/11). I spent part of the morning making calls to cancel hotel reservations. Each call got harder to make. By the time I was finished, I was in tears. Who dreams of spending their anniversary making sad phone calls? Not this girl. There's about a ten day wait to get into one of the approved body shops. We've had a lot of rain, recently, and evidently, rain soaked roads mean good business for the local collision specialists. While it's nice to know they aren't hurting for business, I'm feeling a little selfish. I know how excited my fellas have been and it's just so very disappointing to see things unravel because of no fault of our own. I'm ashamed to admit it, but all sorts of unkind and unladylike words have been running through my thoughts. That's what happens when you poke at this Mama Bear!
Trying to keep a little perspective hasn't been easy. This is an inconvenience. It's not a REAL crisis. Mr. Snark will be able to use my car while I'm at Music Week. We live close enough to his office that I can take him to work and pick him up. It wasn't a tree falling on our house. We have clean water that comes out of our faucets. We have plenty of food. We don't worry about rebel forces storming through our neighborhood, snatching people from their beds. It's just a truck...a thing...repairable and even, worst case scenario, replaceable. There's an outside chance that things could move faster at the body shop than what we've been told. There's an outside chance that the damage really isn't as bad as it seems. There's an outside chance that this trip could still happen, just at a later date.
Hey...you know, looking at it that way...that's this week off at Music Week and then, MAYBE, a week off for the delayed Wild West Adventure. Hmmmm....two weeks of "vacation" for me. Maybe this isn't quite as disastrous after all!
For many years, Mr. Snark has dreamed of taking a Wild West road trip. Me, well, not so much. I'd like to see all the things that one would see on such a journey, but just talking about it makes my tailbone HURT! The perfect chance to do it has been elusive...until this summer. I was invited to go to Music Week with my minister of music and others from our church's music ministry. Music Week happened to fall during the state mandated "dead week" for high school sports. As I live and breathe, the light bulb appeared over Mr. Snark's head...Wild West Road Trip. And from there, all the dreaming he'd been doing became something tangible. Being the good engineer that he is, he looked at several maps and scoured the Internet for information. He plotted their course, made reservations and planned special surprises along the way. He and his boyos. The boyos and their daddy...no mama around to remind them of manners and chaste conversation. No mama around to try and rein in the torrent of testosterone. Just the guys and they were oh, so deliriously happy about it.
He took Quicksilver (that's his name for his silver Nis*an Titan)in for an extensive service call and placed an order for new tires. All of this was necessary to make sure the truck could handle what this trip would entail. Mr. Snark took Quicksilver to the aforementioned nationally franchised tire store on Tuesday. He sent text messages indicating that it was taking longer than he expected. Then he sent a message saying that the truck was finally up on the rack getting it's new shoes. Then he sent this message:
"They've damaged the truck. ODG."
(ODG = Oh, dear God!)I didn't have but a minute to digest the text message when the land line started ringing...it was Mr. Snark. Did they scratch the body of the truck with one of the drills they use to remove the lug nuts? Did they bang something into it? Did they back into something? My guesses at how they damaged the truck didn't even come close. "The kid"...that's how someone at the tire store referred to the mechanic working on our truck...backed Quicksilver off the alignment rack. Yep, you read that correctly. Off the rack and over the chocks that are in front of and behind the tires to prevent such a thing. So, in my mind, as Mr. Snark is telling me the story, I picture Quicksilver hanging off the rack...at an angle....and hanging by the drive shaft. (Breathe....don't go passing out on me!) At this point, I'm just going to skip through some of the details. Those of you who are mechanically minded will understand the immediate damage that something like this will do to a vehicle. Those of you who aren't, trust me....it's not good. I will tell you this much, if not for the winch and its bumper mount, I'm all but certain that "The kid" and his two seconds of stupid might have torn the front end slap off!
Mr. Tire Store Manager was eager to do anything and everything that Mr. Snark asked, in efforts to make this right. All repairs. Just tell him. A new drive shaft was ordered but after visiting with the mechanics who had JUST seen Quicksilver for last week's service appointment, it seemed the better to let our insurance company handle it. As one could expect, Mr. Tire Store Manager wasn't happy about this. Hmm, yeah, can't say that I care about how unhappy he might be. I do give him credit for offering to make whatever repairs Mr. Snark thought necessary. HOWEVER COMMA there wouldn't be any repairs to make if not for his employee's two seconds of stupidity. I know what you're thinking...I'm
Our twenty-first anniversary was Thursday (7/11). I spent part of the morning making calls to cancel hotel reservations. Each call got harder to make. By the time I was finished, I was in tears. Who dreams of spending their anniversary making sad phone calls? Not this girl. There's about a ten day wait to get into one of the approved body shops. We've had a lot of rain, recently, and evidently, rain soaked roads mean good business for the local collision specialists. While it's nice to know they aren't hurting for business, I'm feeling a little selfish. I know how excited my fellas have been and it's just so very disappointing to see things unravel because of no fault of our own. I'm ashamed to admit it, but all sorts of unkind and unladylike words have been running through my thoughts. That's what happens when you poke at this Mama Bear!
Trying to keep a little perspective hasn't been easy. This is an inconvenience. It's not a REAL crisis. Mr. Snark will be able to use my car while I'm at Music Week. We live close enough to his office that I can take him to work and pick him up. It wasn't a tree falling on our house. We have clean water that comes out of our faucets. We have plenty of food. We don't worry about rebel forces storming through our neighborhood, snatching people from their beds. It's just a truck...a thing...repairable and even, worst case scenario, replaceable. There's an outside chance that things could move faster at the body shop than what we've been told. There's an outside chance that the damage really isn't as bad as it seems. There's an outside chance that this trip could still happen, just at a later date.
Hey...you know, looking at it that way...that's this week off at Music Week and then, MAYBE, a week off for the delayed Wild West Adventure. Hmmmm....two weeks of "vacation" for me. Maybe this isn't quite as disastrous after all!
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