There's Always a Bigger Fish

The die-hard Star Wars fans among you will recognize that quote from Episode I. For those who aren’t familiar, let me fill you in: two Jedi are in a submarine-ish device with Jar Jar Binks, the long-eared, reptilian funny-man, when a very large fish tries to eat their submarine. While the Jedi stay calm, Jar Jar is panicking. The Jedi tell him not to panic, and Jar Jars asks why he shouldn’t panic when they are about to be eaten. Just then a much larger fish eats the first fish, leaving our heroes to go about their business. In answer to Jar Jar’s question, Qui Gonn quips, “There’s always a bigger fish.”

How does that apply to my trip? Well, around 6:30 tonight, when I was very tired and still 30 minutes away from my cozy campsite, and indulging in just a tiny little pity party for myself and the tough day I’d had, I drove by a guy having a much worse day than me. He was pulled over on a very dark section of a 70-mile-per-hour highway with lots of traffic zipping by, in the pouring rain, changing a tire on the driver’s side of his camper trailer. And right there, I remembered that your day can always be worse. His fish was quite a bit bigger than mine, so to speak.

So, without unnecessary drama, let me tell you about my day.

1. Alarm went off at 6:20, as per usual. But since I had to wait around for an RV repair shop to open, I got to sleep in for another hour. Win.

2. Went out in the pouring rain to pull a fuse out of my car, to help reduce the battery drain. Spent 10 minutes with ½ my body hanging out in the rain, trying to pull the world’s smallest fuse out of the world’s most awkwardly-positioned fuse box. Gave up.

3. Called an RV repair shop at 8:05, and chatted with a cheerful woman, who told me to come right over. WOOT!

4. Went back out in the pouring rain to disconnect the water and electric, and was on my way, albeit a bit drippy.

5. Drove 25 minutes AWAY from Florida to get the to RV repair shop. The very nice woman saw Cricket waiting in the RV and told me to bring her in. Cricket promptly pooped on her nice, shiny floor.

6. Filled the technician, Alex, in on the purpose of the device, the history of its installation and use, the initial error message, the subsequent red flashy lights, the sub-subsequent lack of any lights, and all of my troubleshooting efforts. “Uh huh”, said Alex. He went to work on the problem.

7. 10 minutes later, I see Alex checking voltage on the cable from the RV to the car, and I ask if it’s working. “Yup”, says Alex.

8. 10 minutes later, I see Alex checking the voltage on the charging device. I ask if it’s working. “Nope”, Alex says. Alex is a man of few words.

9. 10 minutes later, Alex tells me that the charging device has gone bad. The nice woman behind the desk then steps in to discuss how quickly they could get a replacement part – Monday, at the earliest. What I know, but she doesn’t, is that the vendor of this particular part is closed until Monday. And they are in California. So really, we’re talking Tuesday, at the VERY earliest, if I’m willing to pay a boat-load of shipping fees. I decide not to wait. I will limp through to Florida, and deal with the repair there.

10. I ask Alex to remove the stubborn fuse that I couldn’t get out that morning. “Sure,” says Alex. Quite the conversationalist, that Alex.

11. The nice lady behind the counter charges me $86 for Alex’s efforts. Which means I paid about $8.60 per word from Alex. A bargain, I think.

12. Next, it’s off to Walmart for me. Since I’m driving a big rig that takes up 2.25 parking spaces, I park way at the end of the parking lot. I walk up to Garden Center door, which is closest, but it’s locked. I walk to the next door. This one is locked due to COVID. So off to the 3rd door. Did I mention it’s a super-Walmart? Once in the door, I ask the first clerk I see where the automotive section is. Is it just me, or do southerners have an infuriating habit of talking VERY slowly when you’re in a hurry?

13. She sent me to the far corner of the store – the one closest to my parking spot, but farthest from the door. There is NO ONE in this section of the store, so I wander up and down aisles until I see what I’m looking for in the darkened service bay. Feeling like an intruder, I slink into the dark bay to look over the car jump-start devices. I have exactly one to choose from. It looks rinky-dink, like maybe it would start a go-cart, but the box assures me it’ll start an 8-cylinder car. Since it’s my only choice, I decide its better than nothing.

14. While I’m in the store, I also pick up a batter charger/monitor, a shiny new pair of needle-nose pliers (so I won’t have to bother Alex the next time I need to pull a fuse), and a Lonnggg sewer hose for the RV (that’s another tale of woe I didn’t get to tell you about yesterday).

15. I hit the 20-or-less register, and I’m the 5th in line. So I wait. And I wait. And the line’s not moving. And the nice lady in front of me decides to become my new BFF, and wants to have a conversation about the valentine’s cards that are on the shelves. And we wait. The nice lady sees that I only have 4 items, and she wants to let me cut in front of her. After all, she’s got FIVE items! I insist that she keep her place in line. And I’m still 5th in line. It has NOT moved in the ENTIRE DURATION of my relationship with the nice lady. Did I mention she’s wearing a clear plastic rain cap, circa 1970?

16. The line finally moves and I’m now 4th in line. The customer at the register has 19 items, and she wants to have a conversation with the clerk about EVERY SINGLE ONE of them. And the clerk is happy to oblige.

17. The line finally moves along, and the nice lady in front of me finally gets to the register, and takes about 25 minutes to unload her five items onto the register. OK, 25 might be a slight exaggeration. It might have only been 22 minutes.

18. Finally she’s done, and we bid our good byes. I wonder if I’ll ever see my new friend again. I think it unlikely. Does anyone have a tissue? I think I have something in my eye…

19. I’m back in the RV, finally. I throw the new items unceremoniously into the back of the RV, and hit the road at 11:45, 4.5 hours later than planned. I get on the highway, and the GPS announces, “Continue straight for 317 miles”. I love when that happens. All I have to do now is watch the miles fall away.

20. Fifteen minutes later, the morning’s steady drizzle gives way to downpours. I spend the next few minutes searching for the lines that tell me weather or not I’m in my lane. Then it slacks off to a steady but manageable rain.

21. At 12:45 I have to stop at a rest area to run the car’s engine for 15 minutes, so that the battery can recharge. I take Cricket for a walk. As I pull out the torrential downpours catch up with me, and I’m once again searching for my lane.

22. At 2:00 I have to stop at a rest area to run the car’s engine for 15 minutes, so that the battery can recharge. I take Cricket for a walk. As I pull out the torrential downpours catch up with me, and I’m once again searching for my lane.

23. At 3:15 I have to stop at a rest area to run the car’s engine for 15 minutes, so that the battery can recharge. I take Cricket for a walk. As I pull out the torrential downpours catch up with me, and I’m once again searching for my lane.

24. Are you having déjà vu? I did. All afternoon.

25. 4:30 was different, though. This time I needed diesel. Guess what? The gas pump declined my credit card. And then it declined my other credit card. I schlepped into the store, waited in line, and handed my credit card (the first one) to the cashier. She ran it with no problem. The damn pumps hate me, apparently.

26. I found a parking spot to run the car’s engine for a few minutes. Geo suggested that I just tow with the car running for a while, so that the battery could get a good recharge (he’d checked this logic with a Honda expert who gave it the thumbs-up). So I decided to try it. After driving that way for a few miles, I pulled over once again to make sure everything was good with this new plan. The car seemed fine, but the doors were locked. With my keys inside. And the engine running. You know how some cars will automatically lock the doors when they reach a certain speed? I’ve got one of those cars. Thought I was going to have to call Good Sam again for a lock-out, but luckily, my wise husband had talked me into bringing BOTH sets of car keys. I unlocked the car and shut it off. Not taking any more chances.

27. At this point it was starting to get dark, and I was still about 2 hours from my cozy campsite. I decided to stop babying my car. After all, I’ve got my fancy new jump-starter. I would push through to the campground without stopping again.

28. Started watching carefully for crepuscular animals. (That’s right. I said Crepuscular. Look it up.) I’ve got a bit of a paranoia about night driving. I’m quite convinced that hoards of woodland creatures are crouching at the side of the road, just out of reach of the headlights, trying to screw up the courage to cross. And inevitably, some of them will get a sudden rush of courage just as a 12,000-pound vehicle is bearing down on them, with a driver whose night vision is not what it used to be. I resolve to run over any animal smaller than a deer, if need be. No need to ruin both of our days.

29. Finally, finally, FINALLY I arrive at my cozy campsite. It’s a perfectly acceptable rustic site, and I’m happy to be nearly at the end of this day. The only annoyance is that I keep hearing the occasional fireworks going off. This is South Carolina, after all, where fireworks are legal. I swear, there’s a fireworks store on every block. But why on earth are they shooting off fireworks on a Thursday evening? Is that just a thing around here? Do they shoot off fireworks every Thursday night? At long last, I realize that this is New Year’s Eve. Ahh. That explains the fireworks.

That catches you up on my adventures for today. And while it may have been a trying day for me, for Cricket, it was fabulous. All those walks!

Tomorrow takes me into Florida. Hopefully. I’m not counting on anything anymore. What’s that saying? Something about making plans, and fate laughs? At some point in the not-too-distant future, I’m confident that I’ll arrive at my final destination. I have learned a lot in these last few days, and appreciate the opportunity for growth. But, if I’m honest, I hope there’s a little less opportunity for growth tomorrow.

Thanks to all of you for all of your support and encouragement over these last couple of days. It cheers me immensely to think of you all being with me, virtually!

Peace out, and Happy New Year!

Kimba