Sunday, November 27, 2016

Val Eschews the Lagging Glass

Remember when Val was one of THOSE PEOPLE who work on their car on the Walmart parking lot? Well...Val is STILL one of those people, but she moved her repairs to the Menard's parking lot, and she now has accomplices.

With The Pony home for such a short interlude (and lucky to be home at all), Hick decided that we should take him out to dinner. You know. Because a Thanksgiving meal that took two days to prepare was not special enough for him. Hick took him to a Chinese buffet on Friday afternoon, and then asked him where he wanted to go for dinner Saturday night.

Yes, Val is VALiantly strapping on the feedbag and plowing through those Thanksgiving leftovers by herself while Hick and The Pony shun them like...uh...like...food that was prepared by Val! At least Genius loaded up a cooler full of turkey and ham and deviled eggs and roasted vegetables and 7 layer salad and Sister Schubert's rolls and bacon-wrapped green bean bundles and assorted sliced cheeses and black olives. He left behind a large pan of hash brown casserole (of which Val had made a WHOLE EXTRA ONE for him to take back) because his housemate buddy's sister had prepared a pan just for the buddy to take back to their college house. No word on what the other four guys might have stashed in their hobo bindle to share around the campfire.

Anyhoo...The Pony said he wanted steak. There's a Colton's over in bill-paying town, so Hick decreed that we were going. The Pony made plans with some high school scholar bowl associates (who are a year older than him) to go on a hike Saturday morning. At least they didn't have him hunting snipe. He left at 10:00 a.m. in a temperature of 39 degrees, having reluctantly agreed to wear some pants I found in the laundry room, having only brought home shorts and t-shirts in his wardrobe. He got home around 4:20. The irony of that time was not lost on The Pony, since Val took it upon herself to enlighten him before he left for college. I couldn't send my little Pony out into the world unprepared.

We left immediately for Colton's, in an effort to avoid the Saturday night rush. We got there at 4:53, but we were not successful. Seems that folks around here go out for supper earlier than septuagenarians on the Branson strip. Earlier than Morty and Helen with Doris and Jack Klompus at Del Boca Vista. The waiting area was packed. The only seat left was the little saddle on a stand. Let the record show that none of us took it. After waiting about 30 minutes, we were seated and served (excellently, I might add).

When we returned to the parking lot, we saw that a beat-up pickup truck (but who is VAL to disparage a vehicle lately) was parked at an angle right next to us, preventing The Pony from opening T-Hoe's door for his seat behind Ol' Sweavin' Hick. He walked around to the passenger side to use that door and slide across to his seat. T-Hoe has bucket seats in the second row. We keep that passenger side seat folded down, so I can see out the back windows when pulling out, and to set things on. The Pony had just crossed that seat and leaned over to close the door. As I opened my door, I heard a

CLUNK!

"Huh. The window just dropped down as far as it will go. And I didn't even slam the door!"

That is correct. I all the time got onto The Pony for slamming the front passenger door. Which wasn't often, because he mostly sat behind me. But when he did, there was a terrible rattle. In fact, I used to ask him if he was trying to break out the window.

Hick tried the button, but that window wasn't moving. So he backed up and started driving! That's right. It was 46 degrees, dark, and we had 20 miles to go, most of it on the highway.

"Are you just driving home with the window down?"

"I don't know what you want me to do, Val. I can't take it apart here."

"Well, there must be something you can do."

Hick drove down the street behind the steak house, and turned onto the Menard's parking lot. There he went past about 20 spaces saying there was nowhere to park. There WAS! Everybody was eating at Colton's, not shopping at Menard's. He settled on taking up FOUR spaces right under a light. Uh huh. To make sure everyone could see Val, I'm sure. She had, after all, encountered someone she knew while waiting for a seat from which to eat steak. In addition, the dome light stayed on while Hick and The Pony wrestled the glass of that window. AND some weirdo pulled in and parked right next to us, even though there were many, many spaces available. We weren't even near the door!

Hick tried several fixes, none of which were a success. That's a story for tomorrow. With photos! We made it home with The Pony sitting on the seat behind me, leaning on the window to hold it up. He's a loyal workhorse, that Pony.

Next time you see one of THOSE PEOPLE trying to repair a car on a store parking lot...give a little nod. It just might be Val.

12 comments:

  1. If Pony could hold it up, couldn't you wedge something in to hold it? I Might have missed something.

    I went snipe hunting once. You have to go at night and they are deep in the woods, then you make snipe noises, a snort whistle , snort whistle thing. We didn't see any, I think they were migrating or something, or they were hiding under towels.

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    1. You'll have to check back tomorrow for Master Hick's solution. Remember, he's the guy who gave me a crutch to prop open the back hatch.

      I am not at all surprised that you have been on a snipe hunt. You are probably also a master at 52-Card Pickup. AND you most likely have a special pair of scissors for preparing snipe for the dinner table after scrubbing them with the vegetable brush.

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  2. Your talk (and Joe H's talk) about snipe hunting made me think of a Boy Scout prank. Some of our scouts went to a campsite next to theirs and asked for their "left-handed smoke shifter." They were going to help the scouts look through their equipment to find it. Some of the other scout parents put a kabosh on it, saying it was hazing/unkind.

    I thought it was hilarious.

    Yes, if I see you in a parking lot, working on your car, I'll toot the horn in a cheerful greeting... 'cause you have lots of time on your hands for such activities.

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    1. Dang! You can't even joke around these days without melting a special snowflake! No wonder they're so sensitive to global warming.

      I could just set up shop on a different parking lot each day. With a different vehicle, if Hick can keep the crap (yes, we know I mean actual CRAP) cleaned off of his Toronado trunk. Roll up my sleeves. Take "elbow grease" literally.

      I'm sure I could make many new friends. I believe most of them would be of the weirdo persuasion.

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    2. Weirdness is a prerequisite in choosing my friends!!

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    3. I could surely introduce you to a few. But I'm keeping the woman who followed me through Save A Lot one New Years Day telling me I was "SO PRETTY." She was good for my ego.

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  3. Hard to believe your family shuns Thanksgiving leftovers. The food always tastes better after the holiday when the flavors have had a chance to marry.

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    1. Well, I have been celebrating their union by living high on the hog! The 7-layer salad is almost gone. I'd say if I flattened it out, it would be down to one layer.

      Hick also loves a good leftover. IF somebody else will drag out all the dishes and put them on a plate and warm them for him. He's been in and out with The Pony's car situation, and doesn't eat at the same time I am preparing them for myself. He's perfectly capable of making a plate for himself, but his will is weak.

      The Pony barely eats the original meal. His leftover feasts consist of about 6 rolls, half a stick of butter, a silver-dollar size slice of ham, and maybe some deviled eggs, and Oreo Cake.

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  4. So glad that I am not alone in this world!

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    1. Maybe some day we'll be broken down on the same parking lot!

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  5. My ex, the mechanic, fixed everyone's car but mine.

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    1. I suppose that's fitting. Like how preachers' kids are hellions, and teachers' kids get away with (figurative) murder, and the cobbler's kids go barefoot. Husbands should take care of their wives' stuff!

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