Such a peaceful afternoon. My laundry was done, my errands completed, and I sat in the yard with a glass of wine. A cool breeze ruffled the leaves and brought the scent of new jasmine. I relished the quiet. About that time, I heard a clatter and a screech from the road out front. Thinking there had been an accident, I rushed out to the road. There was an old truck, full of drunk men and women, pouring smoke from the engine. I grabbed the water hose and ran to save the truck from burning up.
“Hey! What’s going on?” A burly man in soiled overalls yelled from the back. Evidently, he was unaware of the impending disaster boiling up from under the hood. So, just for fun, I squirted him first. This really set him off. Not because I had gotten him wet, but because I had managed to get water in his beer. When the folks in the truck realized there was a problem, they began to unload. Just my luck there were lawn chairs out there.
I managed to hose down the engine before it blew up and stopped the inebriated driver from trying to unscrew the radiator top. I was certainly not in the mood for ambulances. Pretty soon, the unsavory crew had settled themselves in my lawn chairs. Beer, whiskey, and some unknown stinky smoking stuff were passed around. They offered me a drink, but I turned it down, reluctantly.
It took a while before the truck cooled off enough to inspect the damage. I was hoping to fill the radiator with water and send them on their way. But no luck - the radiator hose had blown. It was Sunday and the local auto parts store was closed. “No problem!” Ben, the driver, announced. “My uncle has a yard full of cars. Surely I can pull a radiator hose off of one of them!”
Since his uncle lived across town, I offered to drive him there. “Will those folks behave themselves while we’re gone?” I asked anxiously.
“They too tore up to cause any trouble,” he reassured me. I was still uneasy, but what else could I do? A couple hours later, we headed back with the house. But there was no one in the yard.
“Maybe they got tired of waiting and hitched a ride somewhere,” Ben suggested.
I could only hope. As it turned out, they came inside after one of my neighbors called the cops on them. This was better than a police roundup at my home, I told myself. Inside, some of them had passed out on the couch and on the floor. What was I gonna do now? But there was no time for that. We had a radiator hose to replace if I was ever going to get rid of them. I could see a couple of my neighbors whispering and pointing and knew I had made headlines on the gossip circuit. But, I decided to stick to the plan, get the truck running, and load these drunks up again.
Next problem - Ben had no tools to work with. I dug around in the shed and came up with some pliers and a flathead screwdriver. “That’ll work!” Ben said confidently. However, I didn’t feel so confident. And, about that time, the drunks in my house started waking up. “We’re almost ready to go!” Ben yelled from under the hood.
“Where’s the rest of the beer?” Someone asked.
“Uh oh,” muttered Ben.
“Who’s got a cigarette?” Someone else asked.
It seems Ben had managed to guzzle all the beer while his friends were passed out. This didn’t portend well with the groggy crew. And Ben, who was about ready to pass out himself, was already messing up a simple job. What else could I do? I got down there and took over the mechanicing. Finally, the hose was in place and the radiator was full of water. Finally!
But by this time, Ben was snoring away in the truck bed. “We can’t go nowhere now!” One of them said.
“Ben is the only one with a driver license!” added a girl who stunk like old whiskey and sweat.
“I’ll call my brother to come get us,” suggested another girl.
“One of you is going to have to get this truck out of my yard and take the rest of you to wherever you’re going,” I demanded. My patience was about gone. “Gimme that hose!” I yelled.
Ben came to when I turned it on him full blast. The rest of them piled in when Ben announced he was headed to the beer store. And there they went. Then the neighbors started. Here came Buddy, from down the street, with a six pack.
“I heard you were having a wild party!” he grinned as he offered me a beer. Then the phone calls started, but I was too tired to explain what had just happened. So I took the beer, slammed it, turned on some music, grabbed Buddy, and really gave my neighbors something to talk about!
