What Are We Going To Do About T-Hoe?

Hick took T-Hoe to the shop today. Because of course he couldn’t wait until Friday when I won’t need him. Nope. Gotta take T-Hoe in this morning, so I’m at work with no car all day. I told Hick to make sure I had T-Hoe back tonight.

“Whatever they have to do, if it takes more than today, don’t do it. He runs right now, and that’s good enough for me. I’ve been putting air in that tire since July. First every two weeks, then once a week, then twice, and now three times. But he runs. I have a car to drive. And the oil? I’ve been telling you it drops a percent a day. I have 16% oil life remaining. So it doesn’t have to be done today, or you would have done it yourself over the weekend.”

“I’ll get your car fixed.” Said Hick, with an air of superiority.

Because I knew I would be getting my car back tonight, I only took out my purse. After all, I was getting dropped off at the school door, and picked up there as well. So I left both of my coats in T-Hoe. No reason to haul a coat around when you’re only walking ten feet into the building, right?

So we followed Hick to the auto shop, right next to Save A Lot, and picked him up so he would have a car in town. We took T-Hoe to work, and Hick took him back to leave at the shop, at 7:30 a.m. Hick was supposed to pick us up at 3:45. At 3:15, he called and said he didn’t know if T-Hoe was ready yet. I’m sure he did. At 3:40, he called and said he was waiting because T-Hoe was on the rack. Uh huh. But then he called back at 3:50, and said when he got there, the mechanic was driving T-Hoe down the road. Huh. It wasn’t the wheel bearing Hick thought it was, but another bearing, perhaps a pinion bearing (like the cinnamon babka, the lesser babka, I suppose) that Hick said he was sure it was then he dropped it off. Yeah. That story kind of stinks, even for Hick.

I don’t want to ride in Hick’s Pacifica, because it is too low to the ground. I got in it the other night, and hurt my knee getting out. I don’t want to ride in Hick’s Ford F250 4WD Long Bed Club Cab pickup truck because it is too high. I’m a regular Goldilocks, I am.

Because he had let the $1000 Caravan loll in the BARn field all summer, it will not start and the battery will not hold a charge, because it is from 2009. A fact which he neglected to mention all weekend when he proposed this plan, and I told him I could drive the Caravan. Nope. He waited until 3:10 to even try getting it started today.

So now at this writing it is 4:15, The Pony and I are still at school, and our chariot has not arrived, because Hick drove his truck to my mom’s house to get her Blazer, which is just right.

Oh. And I don’t have a coat, because both of them are still in T-Hoe fifteen miles away, and it’s supposed to snow in the morning.

Pardon me while I do my best Nancy Kerrigan impersonation: “WHYYYYYYY?”