Watching the tow truck driver try to get into the Crock van is like being witness to dental surgery. Working his precision tools on the patient. Patience. It seems the piece of shit is harder to break into than first expected. Sure, we could smash out a window, but the hammer is in the van. Fuck.
Today’s market was pretty decent, actually. We set up our tent in the warmth of the morning sun and shared a few laughs while sipping coffee. Several folks came by and happily purchased shirts. (It’s really cool to see people feel enthusiastic about our stuff.) Everything ticked along as usual until it was time to pack it in for the day. It was at the instant that we packed the tent into the bag that Kris suddenly realized he had locked the keys in the van. Shitty.
Kris decided he would go to the van to double check that any doors might be unlocked or that there might be a way in otherwise. I could tell when I spotted him walking back that he obviously couldn’t get in. (Why? Well, if he had been able to get in, he would have driven the van back. Since he was walking, I knew things weren’t going well. I should be a detective.) The keys were in the ignition in the locked shit van. The frustrating part is the rear cargo doors were unlocked, but couldn’t be opened wide enough to fit our asses, as the van was backed up against a wall. We had to find a small child to squeeze into the open cargo door gap, but none were to be found. Then I had a highly immature idea that I knew would probably not work! That’s right, we would tie a rope from the back of my truck to the front of the van and drag it away from the wall a few inches so we could get in. Just a few inches – how hard could that be?
Below: My truck tied to the van. Indeed, that is a very small, thin-gauge rope that we borrowed off a fellow market vendor. Yes, I know/knew it was a stupid idea, but it’s friggin’ hilarious. Don’t judge me.
Below: Yup, the rope snapped like a cheap elastic with hardly any slack. However, going back to school has paid off because one of the knots I learned how to tie held! Ha! The rope failed, not my knot! Damn rights I pass with flying colours.
After the rope broke, Kris decided to bite the bullet and call in a tow truck. I wrote the following while waiting for the tow truck: I can feel the heat coming off Kris. This kind of thing makes him boil. I’m sure my sporadic giggling doesn’t help matters, but it is kinda funny. It’s funny to think that a portion of our profit from spending the morning selling shirts is going to pay for breaking into a hunk of shit van that cost $300. BOOM! He just got in! Now the doc is writing up the bill. $47 for the cure = two shirts. Meh, could have been worse.
So that’s today’s story. Not the ultimate end to the day, but certainly not the worst. Besides, it gave me something to write about haha.