My bucket list has a few off-the-wall things on it. Driving a truck is one of them. Not a pickup truck. A big truck. The chance of that happening is negative at best. There is no scenario in which I am able to do that, not even in my wildest imagination.
The next best thing is to be in a big truck. That happened last week.
We were happily on our way on a west coast freeway when a metal sheet that keeps debris away from the bottom of the engine compartment of our car fell off. It sounded like the radio had suddenly turned on with a massive amount of static. When we pulled over and looked under the car, reality hit with force.
Long story short, we drove on the shoulder and made it safely to the nearest rest area which was mercifully close. We called for a tow truck to take the car to an auto shop and then we rented a car and continued on our journey with only a 2.5 hour delay.
My nephew remarked that in India, some dude would have materialized from ether with a rope in hand to tie the metal sheet to the chassis of the car and we would have hired him to ride with us to retie if needed. That's called jugaad in Hindi. It's what keeps India chugging.
With no such dude-with-rope on I-5, we waited patiently for the tow truck to arrive. The exciting connection to the bucket list happened when we saw the truck.
We were not expecting a flat bed truck. The driver told us he was going to drop the bed and directed us to pull up behind the truck.
Meekly, I asked: Can I drive up to the bed?
To my surprise, he said yes!
I thought if I can't drive a truck, I will drive on to a big truck and then ride in it. Hell, yeah!
That will do, thank you. Check.
Under the tow truck driver's guidance, I carefully maneuvered the car on to the bed, put the car in park and pushed the parking break. The driver put his head in his hands and said, "Mama! Parking break first and then shift to park. Do the opposite to release.”
Huh, what?
All my life I've done the reverse. He told me what I do is wrong and not good for the car. When it was time to drive the car off the truck, I didn't even ask. I climbed up to the ramp and into the car. I did exactly the opposite of what the good man had said. I released the parking break and then put the car in rear.
"Mama, Mama! Don't do that!" he yelled.
Too late. I was already rolling down. Clearly, it will take a while to retrain the brain on the parking break and gear sequence. And now, I will hear the driver yelling "Mama!" every time I use the parking break. We thank him for his patience, his responsiveness, the care with which he tethered our car to the bed of his truck, for delivering us safely to the auto shop and helping me check off a bucket list item.
I will gladly be his mother in return.
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