So the Car Guy called me yesterday. I see some background is needed here. Car Guy is my bud. My BFF. We just recently swapped trucks. He had a 4 wheel drive he no longer needed but wanted a truck with more room. I had a 2 wheel drive extended cab I didn't need but I did need a 4 wheel drive. Both trucks are the same make and year and almost the same mileage. The stars came into alignment and a straight trade was made. Mine had a few aftermarket accessories I wanted as did his. We removed those items to be installed into our respective new trucks. Happy Happy Joy Joy.
Apparently he was putting in his stereo the other day. This required the removal of the upper dash. To do that he needed to move the shift selector lever. He put on the parking brake and moved the selector all the way down into D1. Did I mention his driveway is steeply sloped? Can you smell the impending disaster?
After a few minutes work he realized he needed to remove the lower dash. To do that he needed to, say it with me now, disengage the parking brake. Now Car Guy is a very experienced and competent mechanic. From minor repairs to total tear downs he can do it all and has many times which makes the resulting near catastrophe all the funnier. I mean ironic. Yeah, that's it. Ironic.
Car Guy reached under the dash and released the parking brake. The state of the gear selector lever was apparently forgotten in his intense concentration on installing the latest whiz bang satellite radio system. He was also hanging out the drivers door with his legs on the driveway at the time. You know, it's a funny thing. Sometimes, just as you do something monumentally stupid you get a moment of crystal clarity. It comes just after you do it and when it's far, far too late to stop. You think "Oh crap, I just did something incredibly bad and it's really, really going to hurt." You badly want to stop your hand or mouth but you just can't. It's no longer in your control and you can only watch, almost as an outside observer, as catastrophe and chaos take over. Your actions totally divorced from your conscious mind. You await the bang and hope the insurance will cover the medical bills.
Car Guy had just such an epiphany as he watched his hand release the only thing keeping his truck safely in his driveway. Inevitability took over and the truck zoomed down the driveway (It's very steep) and toward the road. Like a smart munition programmed by Red Adair, it headed unerringly for the fire hydrant across the street. Car Guy found himself holding onto the brake pedal, the only thing he now had to avert looming disaster, and being dragged just inches from painful mutilation by the rear wheels. He somehow managed to get a grip on the steering wheel with one hand and apply the brake with the other. The engine was off so he had no power assist just the panicky strength that comes from knowing one has committed a massive buffoonery and if one does not somehow wrest control of the situation from Murphy's slavering jaws injury and personal revenue disenhancement will surely ensue.
Car Guy contorted and strained with all his might. He pressed on the pedal and prayed to to the gods of all things mechanical. He may have even cried but if so it was just for maybe a minute or two so it really doesn't count and no one should think less of him for that. Somehow, in spite of doing virtually everything he could to bring on this massive kinda accident but really negligent negative vehicle/object interaction, he brought the truck to a halt just inches shy of the hydrant and the high pressure water event that surely would have resulted. He even managed to keep his soft personal parts away from the rear wheels but even he can't explain how. The day was saved.
But Car Guy just couldn't keep it to himself. He called his compadre, his amigo, his trusted confidant immediately afterward and, amid much laughing and many aspersions cast by yours truly, related the story finishing with the admonition "Dude, don't tell anyone!"
So to Car Guy. My best friend. My brother from another mother. The man I'd trust with anything and everything near and dear to me. I didn't tell a soul. I swear.
I'm just glad the antagonist in this cautionary tale wasn't me. It usually is but that's a story Car Guy will never tell. He swore.
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5 comments:
Do I dare email him and ask just how steep the driveway is?? Or maybe about power assist brakes with the engine off. There's a thousand ways we could ask just the right question so he might understand it had made the blog.
In your defense Tom I've been there done that. I'll share with you one day.
Don't squeal on me Sarge. He'll kill me!
Oooook I won't. but you owe me~!!! big time.
"Hey, Bud, did you ever get that stereo installed in the truck?"
Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.
That should be adequate!
My only excuse is that a story that good just cannot be kept secret.
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