Dante
Wow, am I in a posting mood today!!
It's just that, I was sitting here looking at the original paperwork for Dante's "adoption" if you will, and I remembered the day he first arrived in my driveway. It was just days before I met Dale face-to-face.
At one minute before 1pm that afternoon, there was a knock at my door. I pushed aside the butterflies in my stomach and opened the door. The man looked around at the apartment, over my head, and then realized that I was down a bit more. He looked down at me and says cheerfully, "Anyone here expecting a Tacoma?" "That be me," I said, smiling at him. His face registered momentary surprise and then he smiled broadly. "You must be...?" "Yep," I answered, and we shook hands, making our brief introductions. He smiled again and stepped backward a bit, gesturing toward the parking lot. "Well, there it is." I looked out and saw a slightly dusty, black Tacoma sitting in the lot several doors down, the sunlight glinting off the hood and the top portion of the driver's side door. I nodded approvingly. Exactly what I asked for. "You wanna take it for a spin before we get down to business?" he asked. I stepped back inside and shook my head. "Nope. Do you have the paperwork?" His smile faded and was replaced by a disbelieving frown. "You... you don't want to take it for a spin?" "Nope. Paperwork?" My request finally registered. "Oh, okay, yes." Another guy, apparently the driver of their return car, yelled over. "Takin' it for a test spin yet?" The first guy looks over his shoulder at him. "No, she wants the paperwork." "What?!" I hear the car-driver exclaim. "Yeah, grab the paperwork, she wants to do that first." "Paperwork? Really?" "Uh, yeah." "Uh, oh, okay. Be right there." (Or something to that effect.)
It became apparent to me that most people who have a new vehicle delivered before seeing it typically want to drive it before signing anything, and my opposite desire had left the two men near speechlessness. However, I'd never driven a truck before, and I had received my license only a month and a half earlier. This was, obviously, about to be my /first/ vehicle as well, and it was brand-spankin' new. I was so nervous and lightheaded that I may have well been drunk - I was far from the point where I would trust myself to drive my /scooter/ safely, let along a quarter-tonne vehicle that would readily kill anyone in its path.
So the two men came inside with the paperwork and sat across from me at one of my long tables, which I had cleared of components and the like for exactly this purpose. "You, uh, into computers?" one of the men asked, eyeing the piles of stuff on the other tables. "You could say that," I said, smiling nervously. Typically I'd have gone on and on about my hobby-turned-trade, but I was in very unfamiliar territory and needed to keep myself on track, in stark concentration. He made no further comment on the matter and pulled the papers out of a folder, seriousness hitting him like a sudden shadow. These men were cordial, but knew their business.
We spent the next hour poring over the documents, and by the time we were done, my hand had decided that it had signed my name for the last time. The two men shook my hand, each in turn, and congratulated me on my fine purchase. Then they asked if I had any questions about the truck itself. At this point, I realized I'd better look over the truck. So I said, "Well, could you show me how the truck works?" They exchanged startled glances, but smiled and got up. "Of course."
The sun was angled differently now, but the truck was still shining patiently. "I hope you understand that the dust is from the trip down here; and the mileage is for the same reason," one man apologized, well in advance of my even questioning such mental notes. "Oh, of course," I replied, thinking that perfectly logical, and wondering at the apologetic look on his face, which remained a bit despite my assurance that I understood. I realized for the second time that afternoon that one of them must have driven the truck, so I asked who had had the privilege. To my surprise, it was the one I'd earlier assumed had driven the car. He beamed. "Nice ride," he told me excitedly. "Feels like driving a car." I'm sure some folks might have taken offense at that, but that's exactly the comment I was hoping for. My driving instructor had been nervous when I asked him if he thought a truck would be OK for my first vehicle. When I told him that I was looking at Tacomas, though, he had relaxed. "Oh, you'll be fine in one of those. It would be like driving a car, only bigger and higher up." I recalled the twinkle in his eyes and I felt myself relax a bit. That makes two people that feel this way, I thought. Good.
The guy looked the truck over with admiration. My heart skipped a beat as I followed his gaze, looking in at the soft gray interior, sniffing the "new car" smell for the first time. My first vehicle!! He showed me where the wipers were, and warned me that the shifter will only leave "park" if I had the brake depressed. I nodded, wondering why anyone would shift out of park without braking first anyway. Looking at the letters, I could see that it would go into reverse before drive, and thought that wouldn't be good for the gears, and besides, braking would mean you'd have more control should you accidentally switch gears tot he wrong one. Seeing my understanding, he added quietly, "You'd be surprised how many calls we get about broken shifters. Some people don't do the brake thing and force the shifter, breaking the shaft right off." I was horrified but he continued, saying, "They aren't meant to be forced like that, you know." I shook my head and continued my inspection, which had spread into the rear portion of the cab. The tumble seats!! W00t!!
Eventually I was left alone with my new "Toy" (Toy = Toyota, don'tch'know) and I practiced opening the doors, shutting them, and getting in and out of the truck. I cleaned the interior of the already-accumulated dust, polished the windshield, opened the tumblers, assembled and disassembled the jack, and familiarized myself with the instruments. I studied the manual, flipped through the glove compartment and looked for the other books, which I also perused for a good hour. I talked to the truck the whole time, promising to name him as soon as I figured out something suitable.
Finally I got up my nerve and placed the key in the ignition. I turned it, foot planted firmly on the brake, terrified he'd move before I was ready. The engine came to life, its sound reaching my ears for the first time. I knew the beeping sound was because I did not have my seatbelt on yet, so I fastened it and sat there, foot still on the brake. I slowly exhaled and released it. The truck moved forward very slightly, but it stayed put. I played with the instruments some more, testing blinkers, headlights, windshield wipers. I noted that the gas gauge was full and that there were two headlight indicators, one for normal and one for high beams, I assumed, since they changed depending on which position I selected. I could tell from the reflection in the window in front of the truck which position was which.
The moment had arrived. I planted my foot on the brake again and slowly shifted into reverse, noting how easily it moved, yet felt a very satisfying, small thud as it moved into place. No mistaking where it's at, I thought. You're either there, or you're not. Good. My foot began to release its hold and the truck moved backward. I hit the brake, hard. OMG, the thing moved! I craned around, making sure no one was behind me. Then I remembered the gazillion children that lived in the complex and put the truck back in park. Ensuring it was steadily planted, I got out and walked around the vehicle, looking for kids. There hadn't been any around all day, but I'd been absorbed in my new toy, so I wasn't certain if perhaps I'd missed one sneaking around or something.
I even checked UNDER the truck, just to be sure.
My first run was around the complex, where the speed limit was 5mph. I got braver after my second time around and made my way to the exit for a little run around the block. The truck DID feel like a car, but I could see so much more from up there!!
It wasn't hard to park it, either. I sat in the driveway upon my return, exhilarated. I turned the key backwards in the ignition and retracted it.
A gentle giant, I thought to myself. He's got some power to him beneath that quiet exterior. And for the next couple of days I was preoccupied with finding a name for him: Dante Damian.
~nv
It's just that, I was sitting here looking at the original paperwork for Dante's "adoption" if you will, and I remembered the day he first arrived in my driveway. It was just days before I met Dale face-to-face.
At one minute before 1pm that afternoon, there was a knock at my door. I pushed aside the butterflies in my stomach and opened the door. The man looked around at the apartment, over my head, and then realized that I was down a bit more. He looked down at me and says cheerfully, "Anyone here expecting a Tacoma?" "That be me," I said, smiling at him. His face registered momentary surprise and then he smiled broadly. "You must be...?" "Yep," I answered, and we shook hands, making our brief introductions. He smiled again and stepped backward a bit, gesturing toward the parking lot. "Well, there it is." I looked out and saw a slightly dusty, black Tacoma sitting in the lot several doors down, the sunlight glinting off the hood and the top portion of the driver's side door. I nodded approvingly. Exactly what I asked for. "You wanna take it for a spin before we get down to business?" he asked. I stepped back inside and shook my head. "Nope. Do you have the paperwork?" His smile faded and was replaced by a disbelieving frown. "You... you don't want to take it for a spin?" "Nope. Paperwork?" My request finally registered. "Oh, okay, yes." Another guy, apparently the driver of their return car, yelled over. "Takin' it for a test spin yet?" The first guy looks over his shoulder at him. "No, she wants the paperwork." "What?!" I hear the car-driver exclaim. "Yeah, grab the paperwork, she wants to do that first." "Paperwork? Really?" "Uh, yeah." "Uh, oh, okay. Be right there." (Or something to that effect.)
It became apparent to me that most people who have a new vehicle delivered before seeing it typically want to drive it before signing anything, and my opposite desire had left the two men near speechlessness. However, I'd never driven a truck before, and I had received my license only a month and a half earlier. This was, obviously, about to be my /first/ vehicle as well, and it was brand-spankin' new. I was so nervous and lightheaded that I may have well been drunk - I was far from the point where I would trust myself to drive my /scooter/ safely, let along a quarter-tonne vehicle that would readily kill anyone in its path.
So the two men came inside with the paperwork and sat across from me at one of my long tables, which I had cleared of components and the like for exactly this purpose. "You, uh, into computers?" one of the men asked, eyeing the piles of stuff on the other tables. "You could say that," I said, smiling nervously. Typically I'd have gone on and on about my hobby-turned-trade, but I was in very unfamiliar territory and needed to keep myself on track, in stark concentration. He made no further comment on the matter and pulled the papers out of a folder, seriousness hitting him like a sudden shadow. These men were cordial, but knew their business.
We spent the next hour poring over the documents, and by the time we were done, my hand had decided that it had signed my name for the last time. The two men shook my hand, each in turn, and congratulated me on my fine purchase. Then they asked if I had any questions about the truck itself. At this point, I realized I'd better look over the truck. So I said, "Well, could you show me how the truck works?" They exchanged startled glances, but smiled and got up. "Of course."
The sun was angled differently now, but the truck was still shining patiently. "I hope you understand that the dust is from the trip down here; and the mileage is for the same reason," one man apologized, well in advance of my even questioning such mental notes. "Oh, of course," I replied, thinking that perfectly logical, and wondering at the apologetic look on his face, which remained a bit despite my assurance that I understood. I realized for the second time that afternoon that one of them must have driven the truck, so I asked who had had the privilege. To my surprise, it was the one I'd earlier assumed had driven the car. He beamed. "Nice ride," he told me excitedly. "Feels like driving a car." I'm sure some folks might have taken offense at that, but that's exactly the comment I was hoping for. My driving instructor had been nervous when I asked him if he thought a truck would be OK for my first vehicle. When I told him that I was looking at Tacomas, though, he had relaxed. "Oh, you'll be fine in one of those. It would be like driving a car, only bigger and higher up." I recalled the twinkle in his eyes and I felt myself relax a bit. That makes two people that feel this way, I thought. Good.
The guy looked the truck over with admiration. My heart skipped a beat as I followed his gaze, looking in at the soft gray interior, sniffing the "new car" smell for the first time. My first vehicle!! He showed me where the wipers were, and warned me that the shifter will only leave "park" if I had the brake depressed. I nodded, wondering why anyone would shift out of park without braking first anyway. Looking at the letters, I could see that it would go into reverse before drive, and thought that wouldn't be good for the gears, and besides, braking would mean you'd have more control should you accidentally switch gears tot he wrong one. Seeing my understanding, he added quietly, "You'd be surprised how many calls we get about broken shifters. Some people don't do the brake thing and force the shifter, breaking the shaft right off." I was horrified but he continued, saying, "They aren't meant to be forced like that, you know." I shook my head and continued my inspection, which had spread into the rear portion of the cab. The tumble seats!! W00t!!
Eventually I was left alone with my new "Toy" (Toy = Toyota, don'tch'know) and I practiced opening the doors, shutting them, and getting in and out of the truck. I cleaned the interior of the already-accumulated dust, polished the windshield, opened the tumblers, assembled and disassembled the jack, and familiarized myself with the instruments. I studied the manual, flipped through the glove compartment and looked for the other books, which I also perused for a good hour. I talked to the truck the whole time, promising to name him as soon as I figured out something suitable.
Finally I got up my nerve and placed the key in the ignition. I turned it, foot planted firmly on the brake, terrified he'd move before I was ready. The engine came to life, its sound reaching my ears for the first time. I knew the beeping sound was because I did not have my seatbelt on yet, so I fastened it and sat there, foot still on the brake. I slowly exhaled and released it. The truck moved forward very slightly, but it stayed put. I played with the instruments some more, testing blinkers, headlights, windshield wipers. I noted that the gas gauge was full and that there were two headlight indicators, one for normal and one for high beams, I assumed, since they changed depending on which position I selected. I could tell from the reflection in the window in front of the truck which position was which.
The moment had arrived. I planted my foot on the brake again and slowly shifted into reverse, noting how easily it moved, yet felt a very satisfying, small thud as it moved into place. No mistaking where it's at, I thought. You're either there, or you're not. Good. My foot began to release its hold and the truck moved backward. I hit the brake, hard. OMG, the thing moved! I craned around, making sure no one was behind me. Then I remembered the gazillion children that lived in the complex and put the truck back in park. Ensuring it was steadily planted, I got out and walked around the vehicle, looking for kids. There hadn't been any around all day, but I'd been absorbed in my new toy, so I wasn't certain if perhaps I'd missed one sneaking around or something.
I even checked UNDER the truck, just to be sure.
My first run was around the complex, where the speed limit was 5mph. I got braver after my second time around and made my way to the exit for a little run around the block. The truck DID feel like a car, but I could see so much more from up there!!
It wasn't hard to park it, either. I sat in the driveway upon my return, exhilarated. I turned the key backwards in the ignition and retracted it.
A gentle giant, I thought to myself. He's got some power to him beneath that quiet exterior. And for the next couple of days I was preoccupied with finding a name for him: Dante Damian.
~nv
posted by ~nv at
08:36
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home