For some of you the odd unfolding of events in this story may raise a little doubt. For others this bizarre story will simply be impossible to believe. Looking back, it’s even hard for me to accept that the events unfolded as I relate them, but assurance to you, Dear Reader, it happened exactly as written. And I should know: I was there.
Standing in the middle of a parking lot, in the middle of Florida, in the middle of summer, there was no doubt about it. Our car was dead. Not a light bulb was illuminated, nor a beep, or buzz from anything was heard. I had expended all of my car knowledge trying to start it. I turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened.
Cursing, along with pounding the dash didn’t start the car either. It took five minutes and a look into the owner’s manual just to figure out how to raise the hood, but eventually I did. I checked the engine. We still had one. Unfortunately, what we didn’t have was a battery. Or at least I couldn’t find it. A mechanic I am not, so it was time to do something I’ve never done in over 44 years of driving: Call for roadside assistance. And this is when our story starts to run off the road.
The lady from roadside said she had to verify that I was indeed me. I assured her that I was. This answer wasn’t good enough to satisfy her, so I started to answer all the other questions she asked. After what seemed like forever standing in the middle of Target’s parking lot quickly baking to a toasty burnt sienna, she agreed that I was me and asked what I needed.
I was going to say, “Not to be on the phone for 10 minutes trying to convince someone that I am me,” but thought better of it. Instead I said that a tow to the nearest dealership might be in order, but to dispatch someone who could try a jump-start even though I couldn’t see my battery.
She assured me that the driver would arrive in about 20 minutes and instructed me to stand next to my car. If a tow was needed, my policy covered 13 miles but the dealership was 14 miles away. She required my credit car number for the extra mile. I couldn’t give it to her, The Wife had all the credit cards and she was on the loose in Target.
For 40 minutes, I stood in sweltering heat next to my broken car. There was no tow truck in sight when my phone rang. The not so nice lady from roadside called to inform me the driver was stuck in traffic — he’d be another 20 minutes. I was to remain standing next to my car. Luckily, she hung up before I could respond.
After another 20 minutes the temperature had reached 85 degrees and my phone rang once again. This time it was the nice tow truck driver. Seems he was lost, “Y’all at Target? That on the right or left side of the road?”
Folks, I can’t make this stuff up. I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it in a moment of disbelief, then responded calmly and said, “Well, that depends on which way you are coming from.” He told me it would be another 20 minutes before he arrived. The temperature now hit 90, but at least there was a slight breeze.
The driver finally arrived and started to hook up my car for a tow. I stopped him and asked for a jump first. That’s when he informed me he didn’t have any jumper cables. Seems that the guy working the night shift used and lost them. Luckily for me he agreed to go into Target and buy some. I called out after him, “If you see my wife in there, tell her I’m still alive.”
Returning with the cables, he looked under my hood and was able to locate the battery and something else. Seems the battery, installed only six weeks ago, had a loose cable. A quick tightening of the battery connection, a jump-start of the car, and we could be on our way. And that’s when he asked if we had any tools. Seems the night shift driver also had lost all of them along with the jumper cables.
He took my blank expression as a no. He soon returned from Target where the only available pliers were pink.
With the car finally started, I called The Wife to inform her we could get on our way once again. She replied, “Pull up to the front door. We have a lot of bags to load.”
The lessons learned from our ordeal are as follows: First, roadside assistance may be great, but parking lot assistance isn’t. Second, always carry jumper cables and tools in your car. If not, you could end up with a pair of pink pliers.
And finally, third, in times of emergencies it’s important to keep things in perspective. Being stranded in Florida in the middle of July, standing next to your car in the middle of a parking lot with no tools or jumper cables, waiting for a jump-start from a tow truck driver as the temperature soars to 95 degrees isn’t your biggest problem.
The Wife set free inside of Target for over two hours with all the credit cards is.
[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories since 2001. To read more of Rick’s stories, visit his blog: storiesbyrick.wordpress.com.]
