Macy didn't have school today, it being President's Day and all. Of course. How can you expect third graders to concentrate on their studies when there are so many mattress sales going on?
Anyway, I took the day off to spend with my daughter thinking we would have a leisurely day to spend wasting time on video games and other important tasks. We met Donna for lunch and, after dropping off my truck for some repairs to the airbag system, we took her Jeep and went on our way. After visiting everyone's favorite store (Fleet Farm, which is out of snowblowers by the way), we drove over to the Moorhead Soccer office to drop off a picture of Macy for her Summer travelling soccer ID badge.
The driveway at the new soccer complex is a big "U" with the offices at the base. We came in the south entrance and parked. After dropping off the picture and talking over some business (I serve on the Rec soccer committee) we headed out. That's when we got stuck.
Let me explain. The driveway was clear, three lanes wide with the exception of a small drift easily handled by Donna's mighty V-6. However, there is a small S-curve near the north entrance. As I came around this curve I noticed some drifting. I had just enough time to think to myself, "better power through it" before I realized that plan lacked, what do you call it? Oh yeah: "any chance of success". I threw it into 4WD low and tried to back up. No go.
So I walked back to the office and borrowed a shovel. It was then that the staff there told me not to go out the north road. "Oh yeah, you can't make it out that way," he said, seconds away from death. I trudged back to the Jeep. Still no go. Eventually I gave up and went to call a tow truck. One of the guys informed me he called a friend of his with a pickup and a tow rope who would be on the scene soon.
When I walked outside, I saw a red truck drive by heading toward the Jeep, so I headed that way. Eventually he backed up to me and rolled down the window. The interior of the truck smelled of death and tacos, along with myriad unidentifiable odors, possibly Lovecraftian in origin. What kind of people do these soccer folk hang out with, I thought. The driver, for whom daily showers fell far below collecting stray smells on his daily to-do list, asked me if I had a tow rope. I told him no. He didn't have one either, but he knew some people, etc.
I continued on to the Jeep and began digging. After twenty minutes of futility and anger I again walked back to the office. The guy who called for the truck had no idea who I was talking about when I regaled him with the tale of the truck of many smells. His friend drove a black truck he assured me.
Sure I had encountered some apparition from a parallel dimension (one where all the ghosts smelled bad), I walked for what would be the last time back to the Jeep. Eventually the black truck arrived, the Jeep was freed from its snowy prison, and I, $25 poorer, took Macy and went to do the grocery shopping. Not surprisingly, I was not bothered by Cashwise's typical musty smell.