Yeah. Seems like only 12 days ago I complained that Hick had shoved
Wednesday I got in T-Hoe to go meet my favorite gambling aunt for lunch, and found that I had to deal with THIS:
Yeah. That's my car door. Riding along as a back-seat passenger! Unbeknownst to ME, until I climbed in and turned around to back out of the garage. Turned around, because my back-up beepers don't work. Oh, I would have noticed, even if I didn't turn around. The rattle would have piqued my curiosity.
Oh, how I longed for those 11 days of driving around with three wooden doorstops holding up my window! Because now I was tooling around three towns in a Hoosiermobile with blue duct tape holding up the rear window. Even cardboard and silver duct tape covering the passenger window on the $1000 Caravan was not as jarring.
But that's not all!!! Enough, yes. But ALL, no.
Hick had taken T-Hoe to work to have the job done at a place he knows up there. He had said they might need to order a part, in which case they would fix the window so it wouldn't fall down in the meantime. I'm pretty sure Hick said he went to school with this lady whose husband runs the shop. I'm starting to think the husband went to school with Hick, too. And learned how to hold up a window from the same trade school teacher.
Anyhoo...Hick had returned T-Hoe to the garage and parked him a bit farther forward that I do. Meaning that the driver's door rested against a framing 2 x 4 in the wall, and did not reach maximum openage. A hardship for Val to bend her cantankerous knee to get in.
THEN, once I got out on the road and tried to look behind me, I noticed that the passenger side mirror gave me a view of the overcast sky. How Hick drives like that is BEYOOOOOND me. Of course, it could explain the sweaving...
When a song came on the radio that I did not care for, Hick's THIRD STRIKE caused a roar from this crowd of one. I clicked T-Hoe's steering-wheel station-changer with my finger, and could only get the same six stations. Over and over. And over. And over. It would go through the six stations and then start again with the same six.
I could not get my channels to come up. It's not like I memorize the numbers on Sirius XM for my stations. They are readily available with the tap of a finger. Without even taking my eyes off the road. Until NOW!
I called Hick, to ask what he did with the radio.
"I didn't do nothin' to the radio. I just listened to my stations."
"Now MY stations are gone! I can't get to them! No matter how I try."
"All you have to do is go to HOME."
"There IS NO HOME!"
"Yes there is. Right there beside the stations. A little house button."
"No. Nothing like that. I've tried everything I can. Now I can't listen to the radio."
"It's there. You're just not seeing it."
"Nope. You messed it up. I'm driving. Bye."
Then I ended the call, which probably Hick would call hanging up on him. Once I parked to wait for Auntie Gambler, I fiddled and faddled and somehow found my stations! All I remember is it involved the MENU button and something that popped up on the radio screen, and poking some flat buttons under there, and then clicking on the steering wheel again. WHEW! I hate to pay for something I can't use.
I sent Hick a text:
"I accidentally figured out my radio, so DON'T TOUCH IT tomorrow! You must have been thinking about how you messed up my ACADIA radio with the HOME button."
Yeah. I found out the day he took T-Hoe for fixin' that he had lost my A-Cad stations. I'll try the HOME button before I get out on the road. I can't do it in the garage, though. Ever since we got the metal roof, Sirius XM won't work in the garage. I'm hoping that Hick will bring home a working-windowed T-Hoe.
I kind of wish I had stopped by my sister the ex-mayor's wife's house and taken her for a ride in my jalopy.