The fridge arrived and so did Becky’s Dad with his van. My laptop is still in for service, but two out of three, so the saying goes, ain’t bad.
In celebration, Becky and I decided to go out for dinner; just because we could. After shuffling seats in the van, and figuring out strap-downs, we were off. We even found a parking spot outside the restaurant. Door open, ramp down, Becky out, ramp up, door close, door close. The power door wouldn’t close. I shouted to Becky to wait up as she wheeled away. I put the ramp back out and tried closing it all up again. The ramp worked perfectly, the door disobeyed. I tried pulling on it. It was really jammed. “Becky”, I shouted again, but she had ignored me and gone into the restaurant.
I tried everything a couple more times and finally left the van with the side door open and ran into the restaurant to fetch Becky. She looked very comfortable at her table. I explained that I couldn’t close the van, so I couldn’t come in the restaurant. “Oh”, she said. Off we trundled out into the cold. At this point I was wondering how we were going to get home, as I can’t drive with the side door open, so I called Becky’s Dad. No answer.
I realized I was probably running the battery down with the automatic ramp, so I asked Becky to sit inside the vehicle while I switched the van on. I was still trying the door by power, manual, and the occasional kick. A very gentle one, if Becky’s Dad reads this. I was pulling and pushing it, and trying to see if I could time it when the power clicked on, but no, nothing. I climbed inside to think. I was feeling pretty upset at the idea of another van breakdown when there is a knock on the drivers window, where I happened to be sitting. It is dark, I’m in an unfamiliar vehicle, and I can’t find interior lights, or the buttons for windows.
A lady asks me if I’m leaving because…and then my phone rings. I really want to answer the phone, but this lady is babbling on about the parking space. I start telling her that I’m stuck, as I climb out the van. She is still there. I want to tell her to back off as I’m kind of busy, but politeness prevails, and I ask her to give me a minute as I fumble with the phone in the dark. I miss the call, and it was Becky’s Dad. I try to call back, but I’m so blind without my reading glasses that, quite honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. Luckily, there is another call; Becky’s Dad.
I tell him about the door. Have I tried pulling the door. Yes. Have I tried pulling the handle away and then pulling the door. Yes. Have I tried pulling the door open further and then closing it. Noooo. It was like a hot knife through butter. I could not believe how easily the door closed. I started to laugh. What a relief. Thank goodness. I tried the door a couple more times to make sure I had it figured out. “Okay, Becky. We can finally get something to eat”! I said.
She wheeled off at top speed into the restaurant, leaving me behind. I guess she was hungry.