Returning to the WonderTruck

Adventuring rule #14: Call in reinforcements when needed.

     Normally my dad fixes everything automotive for me. He makes sure there is enough gas in the car, that we have directions, and that I get oil changes and my tires rotated. This is the abbreviated list. He does this on one hand because the WonderTruck belongs to him and also because its driver is his youngest child.  Either by his example or because he took care of it himself, I have never locked keys in a car.

     I think part of it is that life moves more slowly when I spend time with my parents. Words and responses are more carefully considered. There isn't a rush. As infuriating as this is when we're trying to get to a movie or I am on deadline, it offers a less messy view of life. Tasks get done and promises are kept. It's a great safety net but it can get me into bad habits. At a certain point I am so used to my dad taking care of me and all the loose ends of our lives that I don't do it for myself.

     This is precisely what happened last Thursday night. I picked up my  not so tall friend Allison and a bag of toffee brownies from her house and headed to M section, home of Justin, Jeremy and Nathan. We pulled into the driveway and I tore my keys out of the ignition, tossing it into my bag. Or at least I thought I did.


     We headed inside and without my noticing, my keys remained in the truck's cab. A few bottles of wine were opened, music was playing and we were having a mostly good time. I fell asleep on the couch, because I do that, and the party carried on without me.

     A few hours later, wondering where the brownies had got to, Allison and Justin dug around in my purse to find my keys. No good. Fearing the worst, the pair ventured outside to try the doors of the truck. Also no good. The point dug in when they saw both the brownies and my keys sitting in the cab behind those locked doors.

    I woke from my sofa nap to hear the two of them debate the best way to get into my truck. Somehow I misheard them and thought they had locked my keys away and I was very upset at them. This argument went on for some time, but I could not leave. I went to sleep again, vowing to call AAA in the morning.

     Several hours later, I rose and called the number on the back of the AAA card my mother insisted I take. I agreed only to appease her. Now I must be grateful instead. A curt man drove up in a yellow truck about an hour after the phone call. I greeted him with a smile despite the fact that I had been sitting in the cold morning on the WonderTruck's tailgate with only a cup of coffee to warm my hands. He didn't smile back but checked my card and ID. He removed from his truck a curious wire contraption that curved and angled under the window of my truck.

     I tried to thank him, but he didn't respond. He just climbed into his truck and drove off, after blocking me in the driveway while he completed some paperwork. Whatever. I was free to go.