Me and my Nitro

Yes it has been a while, but life has gotten busy, just busy. Also the traveling gets old and there is just not a lot to tell. Lunch at Ruby Tuesday’s, sushi for dinner, I am still the only man in the Chisel class. Same old, same old. This week something is different though, I have been driving a NITRO, yes it is the boxy car, and it is weird to drive, I feel like I am omnipotent, driving so high above the ground being able to bully all the little cars around me. Also I am afraid I will miss something and suddenly go boink!, and hit a tree or a car or a passerby or something that I was not able to observe. One of the funny things about renting a car every week is that in a way it is like a game, and you get what you get. Usually I get economy cars, mostly because I am cheap and I do not need that much space. It is me, my rolling bag, my knitting bag and office backpack. Now that I put it in paper, it does seem like a lot of luggage for a 4 day trip, and the sad part is the only thing I do not need is the knitting bag, because the rest I need.

The car is great, the NITRO I mean. I is big and I can accommodate a lot in it, mostly people going to lunch, but I do feel like an OC wife running errands all alone in a big SUV when I am driving alone back to the hotel or to the Y. The one humiliating part of it all is that when I got it, I get in and the seat was pushed way back, like they were expecting a guy 6’2” tall to just come in and drive into the sunset (sunrise, I guess since it was 7 am). Well I sit down and realize I am way to short to get to the gas pedal, and I start searching for the lever to move the seat forward, and I can not find it. All I see is a button that moved the seat up and down but nothing to move it in the other directions. I step down of the car and look, I see nothing, I go and take a look at the copilot’s seat and see nothing. Nothing. I think, and think, and think a little more. The car has no manual, the glove box is empty. I am going crazy now, I have spent 10 minutes looking for a way to move the sit so I can drive out of the parking lot. I am pissed now, and at the same time I can not contain the laughter. So finally I decide to ask. I get on the truck and drive to the entry, looking like a 10 year old driving their parent’s car, and when the guard checks my driver’s license and the contract I cleared my thought and asked if he knew how to move the seat. So he makes this face, like he did not know, and I thought, shit, shit I am going to have to drive like this all the way to Wilkesboro, but not, he told me to step down and shows me how the button that moves the seat up and down, also goes sideways. I do my little gay laugh, and thank the parking attendant, hop in my truck, put my shades on and drive to Wilkesboro without having to strain my back.