It was one heck of a morning.
Someone in suburban Shawnee had set cars on fire in the streets, there were wrecks all over the metro, and just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any more hectic, a car crashed into a power line in Olathe, knocking that power line into a school bus.
The good news was, no one was seriously hurt, including the kids on the bus. The bad news was, I didn’t know that at the time and had to get to the scene in a hurry. The worst news of all…..I had little gas in the tank.
So I did what most of us would do. I chanced it.
10.4 miles later, I was in Olathe, first on the scene, last one to leave. I was out of gas, out of patience and in need of a beverage.
Still convinced that I couldn’t possibly have run out of gas, I decided the battery was just dead. A nice church lady with a pair of jumper cables tried to help. No dice. No gas.
So I did what most responsible adults do. I uttered a few choice words (not in front of the church lady, of course), and I called the boss.
The boss is used to getting phone calls from me about cars. They don’t like me.
My own car likes me just fine. Her name is Betty.
But work vehicles….not so much.
If a company car is about to break down, it waits until I get behind the wheel.
My first week at KMBZ involved a ticket for a tail light being out. At one point, someone even tossed a rock through the windshield while I was parked.
The bottom line….when cars get angry, they get me.