Monday, November 17
After a quiet and relaxing weekend at our new camp, the time arrives to get errands done!
Before I tell you about that, a few words about the photos.
Yesterday I set out on a walk, camera slung around my neck and with Bridget at my side. My goal was to snap close-ups of the desert while enjoying the walk with Bridget.
Instead of looking for color, I concentrated on photographing different textures along with the effects of light and shadow on those textures. The photos may seem out of place in an account about running errands. I couldn’t bring myself to post another photo of Wal-Mart.
I hope you enjoy this different look at the desert!
Okay. Back to the story of our day . . .
The Perfect Tow Vehicle carries Bridget and me into the busy town of Globe, Arizona.
I park in front of the Verizon store only to find out that I’m too early. It doesn’t open until 10 a.m. and it’s now 9:35.
Fine. We can go to the auto body shop and come back later.
“Did you say auto body shop?” you exclaim. (Come on, say it out loud and with feeling.)
“Why do you need to go to an auto body shop,” you ask.
Well, dear reader, it’s a long story and it ain’t pretty. I’ll explain further in a future post, complete with details and ugly photos. For now, let this suffice: I crunched the back door of the Perfect Tow Vehicle which, I suppose, is now more accurately called the Imperfect Tow Vehicle. Gosh, it hurts to write that. Anyway . . .
One of the back “barn doors” has to be replaced. No one was hurt. No other property was damaged. And no, I don’t have collision insurance.
I find Globe Body Shop easily on Route 60.
Guys are standing around the office door talking as I park the ITV. I leave Bridget screaming through the windshield. One of the men looks away from the group and says to me, “Go inside and take a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute. At least that way you’ll be out of the cold.”
Already I like this place and I haven’t walked into the office yet.
Inside a woman immediately looks up from sorting the invoices that litter her desk.
“Hello! How can we help you today?” she asks with a friendly smile.
I give her the run-down on the damage. Soon I’m outside with the man who greeted me.
He confirms that I need a new back door.
(I say “confirms” because several weeks ago I asked another body shop what needed to be done and they said the door had to be replaced. This was back in Kanab, Utah. Yeah, the damage happened quite a while ago, when we camped in Salina, Utah. I’ve been keeping it a secret from you!)
Long story short — well, long story postponed — The woman in the office finds a replacement door at a salvage yard, I receive an estimate, and arrangements are made for me to bring the ITV to their shop next week.
The Imperfect Tow Vehicle will be restored to perfection in time for Thanksgiving.
That will give me something more to be thankful for! I’ve been driving around with a bungee cord threaded through the windows to hold the door closed. (The latch was damaged.) It looks like heck in addition to being a pain to open and close the door.
Back to Verizon to talk about recent overages . . . .
I tell the woman, who doesn’t look a day over sixteen, that the overages are bogus.
She goes to her computer and looks up the record of my usage. She agrees that I’ve been charged for a huge spike in data usage, way out of proportion to the pattern I’ve established over the years.
She hands me a slip of paper with a phone number to call.
Silly me thought SHE would make the phone call for me and fix the problem FOR ME, since I didn’t make the errors, Verizon did. Here we are with a classic case of “It’s not my department” or more directly “Sorry, it’s not MY problem. Have a nice day!”
I trudge out of the store with the slip of paper in my hand.
Enough about Verizon! I don’t want to think about it.
Next we pull into Wal-Mart.
I saved the best ’til last . . . After a couple years of procrastination, I get a shingles shot!
I trot straight over to the Pharmacy Department. That in itself represents a tremendous act of fortitude. People frequently warn me of rattlesnakes and coyotes in the desert. A far more dangerous situation, one requiring exceptional courage, is sitting in Wal-Mart’s Pharmacy on a busy Monday surrounded by the people hacking and sneezing and touching surfaces with no restraint.
The wait is long, but I don’t give up!
It doesn’t hurt physically or financially. The Medicare co-pay is $45 as opposed to the full price of five times that much. The doctor tells me to stay around Wal-Mart for at least twenty minutes in case I have an allergic reaction. All I feel is a slight headache for a few minutes.
I race around the grocery section, tossing items into my cart.
Poor Bridget has been waiting a long time. Fortunately it’s a cool day.
All is quiet as I approach the Imperfect Tow Vehicle.
She probably wore herself out barking.
“Hello, little girl. Did you think I’d never come back?”
I hold her happy face in my hands, kiss her cheek, toss the groceries onto the passenger seat, and we head for home.
rvsue
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