The trip to New England planned out perfectly, my errands all in a list, the truck loaded with dog, dog food, library books to return, etc., I set out. Not yet off the base, the truck simply stops running! No engine, no gas, no nothing. I coast to a safe place (near the Shopette for food, water, and gas) and stop. I turn the key, the engine turns over. Battery fine. I know I filled up recently, not out of gas. I call Rob. This is his busiest day at work. I explain what happened and he asks me a few questions, turn the key, and whatnot. Then, he proceeds to tell me how to change the fuel filter if I can get a ride to the auto parts store. I feel so complimented that he has confidence in me. He then worries that if it’s not the fuel filter, I’ll need a tow anyway and should maybe call our friend Byron (with a tow truck). In about ten minutes, Rob has borrowed a vehicle and arrives to inspect his own. In this 30-minute time frame, I have been asked if I need help by at least 5 passersby. Plus, I have been asked by TWO different security forces patrols how long I plan on being stranded and could I please set out cones behind my vehicle. Thanks. Thanks, a lot.
Rob decides that it’s not the fuel filter or the fuel pump and is frustrated that he doesn’t know what it is or if he can fix it before we are supposed to drive to Tallahassee at 2:30. Plus, the flight we planned on taking out of Tallahassee is full as of this morning. Great. We call the tow truck. Our friend’s tow truck is ironically in the shop and he tells me he’s going to call some of his buddies to see if one of them can come get me. Rob goes back to work. 45 minutes later I get the call that Byron’s got someone coming for me and they should be there in 20 minutes. An hour later, the tow truck arrives. In this span of time, I’ve been guilted by security forces twice more (I think everyone on shift came by), and asked by fellow military people if I needed help AT LEAST 5 times every thirty minutes!! No kidding! People I called can attest that my phone conversations went like this: “Yea, I’m stuck on base. Of all the days that the truck could break, this is just the worst!... Yes, I’m fine. Thanks, but I don’t need any help… So anyway, how’s your day been? Uh huh… Yes, there’s a tow truck coming… Thanks for asking, I’m fine…” And so on. One lady who’d passed me twice brought me water and snacks! So nice!
The tow truck that arrived made me laugh at the continuance of the ridiculousness of the day! It was an antique! I seriously worried that WE’D need a tow once it had Rob’s big truck on its platform. Then of course I still had Gus. The very amiable driver (a loving dog-person) said it was fine for Gus to ride in the cab with us. So of course, my giant dog chose the very middle of the bench seat right in front of the shifter so the guy had to reach around Gus’ body while his head rested in his lap to change gears! I WISH I’d taken a picture! We arrived at the repair shop and dropped off the truck at 1:30-ish (I broke down at 10). Lovely Heidi was there with lunch for me and a ride to the car rental place. Rob rented a car one-way to the airport in Destin for a measly $39!! We were planning on $10 a day for parking! Excellent! After dropping off Gus at the Jestice House (he gets to stay with his friends!), Heidi took me to the airport where I picked up my BRIGHT yellow Chevy Cobalt rental car. Heidi also completed a few of my errands for me too! Thank you, Heidi!!
I picked up Rob with barely any time to spare before we needed to be on the road to catch our flight. We actually missed our planned flight to Dallas, but made the last one. Whew! Although the truck breaking down was terribly inconvenient at the time, it was MUCH better than it breaking down in the middle of nowhere on the way to a cancelled flight! I mean, seriously, I got snacks, Rob and friends were close by, the repair shop was close by, and I had my pick of help from strangers! Even though it completely disrupted my original plan, it was the best breaking down experience ever.
