Everything else

My Ridiculous Luck

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I’ve been aware for a long time now that I am somehow a magnet for ridiculous luck, in generally any situation. At this point, it’s a running joke. If there’s a way for things to go wrong, they’ll definitely go out of their way to do it for me. My name gets lost in computer systems. Insurance randomly dropped. Freak illnesses and accidents. I’m fairly certain I hold a world record for the amount of flat tires I’ve had – did I ever tell you guys about my anniversary trip last November? My husband booked us a room at a haunted castle. Halfway there, one of our tires randomly went flat. Located a tire place in the nearest town, but they said it would be hours before they could get my vehicle in, if at all. Stopped at a gas station, loaded the air thing with quarters, it wouldn’t work. Found another tire place, and after an hour the tech came back and said she couldn’t help because she couldn’t get the spare tire lowered. Put air in the tire, and hoped for the best. Back on the expressway, and the tire started losing air at an alarming rate. Pulled off to a rest stop and called a tow truck. An hour and a half later, the tow truck guy showed up and couldn’t help us because somehow the mechanism to release the spare tire had been broken. Basically, we continued stopping to put air in the tire every half hour or so until we reached our destination… only to find, by the time we checked in at the castle, we had missed dinner and the bar was closed. Yep. That’s just my luck.

So I suppose it shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise to me when, last week, my husband went to leave for work early one morning and our elderly pick up truck refused to start. We’d known its death was coming, eventually, but had hoped to make it a few more months. Regardless, we had to have it towed out of our driveway and began the search for a different vehicle. After work last Friday, we went to a semi-local car dealership and after a few hours, found something we agreed on, although it will mostly be my vehicle to drive to work. It seemed to be going so well, I should have known the Curse was about to manifest itself. And when the sales guy said, “It’s getting late. Here, just take the keys and come back in the morning to finish the paperwork and get the remote start put on,” it was WAY too good to be true.

Saturday morning, Sales Guy called and said  Finance Guy had called in sick, so just to keep the vehicle for the weekend and drop it off early Monday morning. He would give me a loaner car to take to work while the remote start was put on, and we could finish the paperwork when I went to pick it back up. Okay. I could do that. Had some fun with my new vehicle – I mean, it’s been over eleven years since I have purchased a vehicle, so it was kind of exciting – showing it off, syncing my phone to it, setting the stereo stations. And then, as agreed, on Monday morning I got up an hour early to drive it to the dealership and pick up the loaner. I handed over my keys and Sales Guy hands me a different set. “I didn’t get the loaner car set up for you, but here, just take my personal truck. It’s fine.” Which seemed odd, but I didn’t want to be late for work, so I took it. I mean, it had a bunch of empty pop bottles rolling around in it and there was barely any gas in the tank, but whatevs. I met my husband there after work to finish the paperwork and pick up my new vehicle.

We were sitting in Finance Guy’s office, signing page after page, and I realized my name – which has been an improperly spelled burden my entire life – had been misspelled on all the papers. Further, my place of employment was wrong. They took all the paperwork back, redid it, and then we started all over again. We’d just gotten to the last page when my husband spoke up. “Wait,” he said. “This VIN number doesn’t match the one on my wife’s car.”

“What?”  Finance Guy said. “Of course it does.”

My husband – who has a great eye for details – shook his head vehemently. “I’m telling you, it doesn’t. Go look. The sticker is still in the window.”

Finance guy leaves. Comes back. “I’ll be damned. You’re right! It’s a completely different number! I’ve got to go talk to Sales Guy and see what’s going on here.”

We wait. And we wait.

Finally, they both come back into the office. (Get ready, folks. Here comes the punch line.) Sales guy says, “Here’s the thing, Mr. and Mrs. Kinney. Ah… it appears that I inadvertantly sold you a car that has already been sold to someone else.”

My husband was all, “I’m sorry. Come again now?”

“The vehicle has already been sold. You’ll have to return it,” Sales Guy says.

“The hell I will,” replied my husband.

It only got better from there. Sales guy started raising his voice. Husband raised his voice in return. Suddenly, both men are standing and both getting red in the face. Finance Guy tried to jump in to mediate, and Sales Guy told him to sit down and shut up.

At which point I got up and walked out of the office. Hey, I have anxiety. I can’t with all the raised voices. I wandered about for a while, located a vending machine, hoped there might be Xanax but in lieu of such I bought a Kit Kat bar.

After much back and forth, Sales Guy says he has reviewed the dealership’s inventory, and has another vehicle that is the same make, model, year, and color that we can purchase, if everyone can just calm down.

Clearly, everyone did not immediate just calm down. However, after hours (HOURS!) my husband agreed to take a look at the other vehicle. Of course, by then it was pitch black outside and we couldn’t see anything, so Sales Guy had to bring the vehicle around to one of the docks with bright lights so we could investigate it. As it did indeed appear to be exactly the same as the first vehicle, I hung back a bit, waiting for my husband to come to a decision, as he was still fairly agitated at the entire ridiculous situation. For some insane reason, Sales Guy gets the idea to approach me and try to win me over, ostensibly to get my husband to chill abou the whole thing.

“Mrs. Kinney,” he begins, waving his arm and indicating for me to come over and see the car. “I wanted to show you something about this vehicle. Boy, you’re really going to love this!”

With a deep sigh, I walked over to stand near the new new vehicle and waited.

He went on. “You know how when you’re grocery shopping, and you’ve got your arms full of grocery bags, and you’re fumbling about, trying to reach your keys and get the door open and it’s all just so hard?”

I simply stared. Said nothing.

“Well, with this fancy key fob, you don’t even have to put the key in the lock! You can just press the button, and voila! Easy as that! Won’t that be nice for you, when your arms are full of groceries?”

“…uh-huh.”

“And it’s the same pretty color as the first one you picked out! Did you notice that?”

Oh my God.

I waited for a few, just to see if he wanted to also offer me a mop and broom so I’d take the other vehicle. Or a dust rag. Because, I mean, obviously. Silly female that I am. What else might I be doing with my time?

In the end, we agreed to take the second vehicle, which brought another problem, because we had just paid to put a remote start on someone else’s vehicle.

“No problem,” says Sales Guy. “Just tell your wife to bring it here by eight tomorrow morning, and I’ll give her a loaner, and she can come pick it up tomorrow night.”

“Oh, no,” says my husband. “She won’t be doing that. She’s already gotten up an hour early today and driven all the way here, so you could send her off in your truck – with almost no gas in it, mind you – to get the remote start put on. She’s not going to do that again because of your mistake. You can give her a loaner tonight, and we’ll be back tomorrow to pick up the new car.”

Eventually, I did actually get my new vehicle, remote start, fancy key fob and all, and bring it home. The entire thing was exhausting. I might do it again in another decade.

Maybe not. We’ll see.

Full disclosure, I’m about to plug my new book.

The fourth book in the Secrets of Windy Springs series, Knowing His Madness, released on January first. I’m so excited about this book. It’s my all-time favorite to ever have written, quite possibly that I ever will write. Captain Dash’s story is so close to my heart, and I’ve never enjoyed writing anything as much as I did writing this story. I’m so pleased with how it turned out. The fifth installment, Knowing Rogan, will be out, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, by this spring.

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