Wednesday 9 October 2013

It runs in threes...

Right? I'm hoping it just runs in threes, anyhow.

So, here's a funny set of coincidences.

I've just been away in South Australia on a mini-adventure (more on that in a separate post soon) involving driving and sleeping in Vinnie the rental van. Vinnie and I got on really well and I felt quite comfortable driving him, but when Vinnie and I were parked at my friend Tori's (hi, Tori!) house we had a bit of a falling out. I got up to go to the loo early in the morning and Vinnie, apparently feeling a tad insecure, decided to lock himself with his keys sitting safely on his little kitchen bench with my wallet and my phone. Cue the embarrassment and inconvenience of having to get a roadside assist man to break in. I still maintain that Vinnie locked himself (the roadside man said that his sort of van have a habit of doing that) rather than me locking the keys inside, but it still made me feel like a bit of a girl. This was the only time all weekend that I had left Vinnie with the keys inside and thankfully it was when I had access to my friends phone rather than in the middle of nowhere with no phone signal like I had been for the rest of the weekend.

The next morning (yesterday), back in Tassie with my usual transport buddy, Barry, I had another issue. I jumped in, put the key in the ignition and nothing happened. This time it was my fault as I had left the interior light on the night before I flew to South Australia. I remember turning it on to find my car charger for my phone to take with me and apparently I hadn't turned it of again. Cue phoning the roadside assist man (different man, though) for the second time in two days and feeling like a bit of girl again.

Today, I went back to work. My colleague, Stevo, drove Col the Colorado (occasionally pronounced Colorectal) out to Cressy for the day and I drove it back. When Stevo had first started it in the morning, he had the strange experience of the clutch pedal being stuck on the floor, but it quickly came right and didn't seem to be much of a problem. When I drove it, the same thing happened, but it came right straight away again. We stopped at a farm machinery place on the way back to the office to price a spray pack for the back of the Gator, and when I jumped back in and started him up, the clutch was again stuck to the floor, but it came up with a bit of persuading and then stuck up, but really stuck this time and no amount of wiggling or stamping would make it go back down again.. This time it would not come right and we were stranded. Cue phoning the roadside assist man (different man again) for the third time in three days, being towed back to town and two hours of overtime.

So, three days, three roadside assist men, three different problems, three different vehicles - the only common factor is me. I'm really hoping that this is just one of those things that happen in threes, bot some kind of permanent curse.

1 comment:

That brother of yours... said...

3 roadside assist men and none of them were worthy of an Uncle Matthew comparison?