Many of you had the wonderful opportunity to become acquainted with Black Beauty. Now, I am not referring to Anna Sewell’s Black Beauty, but rather my car so named by Corey Smith (of the late Apt. 41, I think).
I regret to inform you that Black Beauty, car to Maria of Dakota, died at 10:23 one evening.
Here is the story: (if you would like the truncated version, skip to the end.)
It was a quite, albeit restless night. The stars shone high, the moon vibrant. The indigenous and the foreigner traversed their way across their collectively mundane lives. To and fro cars sped by. In a condo, on the north side of town, a solitary figure gathers her Drivers license, credit card, and hotel key card. She reached for her car keys before she went out the door, turned and locked the French handle. Walking only a short distance to her vehicle, she slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The roar was instantaneously heard. Should there be one passing by utilizing a service dog, they would be prone to believe that the vehicle was indeed a diesel truck.
The woman drove the car a minute distance to the connivance store down the road. There she filled the tank with gas, the reservoir with coolant, and check the status of the oil. All in order, Maria continued on her drive. Easing onto the ribbon known as I-29, the car easily accelerated to 67 miles per hour. Keeping a watchful eye upon the control/ information panel, she drove 20 minutes to the Comfort Inn in Sioux City. Puttering up to the stop light she frantically thought she would not make it.
The light turned green. She slowly made the right hand turn. Grasping and pulling for all her strength, she rounded to the left into the parking lot. Smoke was billowing. Carefully, she parked the car. Turned it off. Whispered a prayer of gratitude. Then she quickly got out and went into the building… trying desperately to avoid any implication of mortification as possible. It was 10:23 PM.
She worked the Night Audit shift at the hotel, accomplishing many tasks, but there was the looming thought of what she would do in the morning as she was now without a car in proper working order. Slowly the hours ticked by. One, two, three A.M. Finally, her front desk agent, Larry, came in at 9:00 am for his shift. Unfortunately, she still could not focus on her impending predicament. Two newly hired housekeepers were to begin that day.
Curly and Moe were fairly prompt in their arrival for their first day on the job. Set to task immediately, Maria instructed the individuals on how to clock in with their issued badge numbers at the property’s time clock. Then the stocking of the cart was rendered in implicit fashion. Next came the inordinate task of training in proper technique of cleaning guest rooms.
Curly and Moe followed Maria into the first guest room, 128. Starting with the bathroom and moving onto the main part of the room, each facet was covered and the importance of extreme cleanliness stressed. Upon the onslaught of bed making tuition, Moe walked out of the room mid-sentence to retrieve a garbage bag for the room. This raised a flag of concern in the manager’s mind.
After the instruction, Maria left Curly and Moe with the notion that should there be any questions, she would just be a few doors down in her office. Maria shut the door and called her father to seek advice on how to move forward with her car. She was told that it would be the best case scenario to have her uncle take a look at it. Her dear mother called her brother, who said he would rearrange his plans and headed south immediately to check out the problem. Meanwhile, Maria researched rental car options in between helping guests and Larry with miscellaneous problems.
Around 11 AM, Merlon, Maria’s uncle, came. He looked at the car to discover that part of the water-thingy was missing causing any coolant to be put in the car to be evaporated within five minutes. A discussion ensued as to the particulars of how the car was acting before the final smoke out. Logical deduction decreed the car was utterly dead.
Although not a solitary tear fell, the loss of such a fond car was felt. Up against a time deadline, as the place was closing at noon, Maria called Enterprise Rent a Car, home of the “We’ll pick you up.” Slogan. She was told that there was a car to her taste available for $17.95 a day (plus a 15.00/day under age fee). She was picked up at a quarter to noon by a disheveled looking driver with a ketchup stain down his tattered shirt. He drove willy nilly down the road, slightly under the speed limit. The most thinkable indirect route was his course. Through neighborhoods, around businesses, etc. it took 25 minutes to arrive at the destination.
Once inside, the sales man asked if Maria had liked the car she was picked up in. As it was a PT Cruiser, she adamantly, albeit politely, stated that she did not. The gentleman stated that they did not have the car so promised on the phone, but they had another for $40.00 a day that was still available. Genially, Maria smiled and stated that since she had been promised a certain car and it was not there when she arrived, it was only fair that she ought to have the $40.00 car for the $17.95 a day. Upon which it was eventually agreed.
Happily, Maria got into the sleek, black 2008 Nissan Altima with the push button start. She drove down one street and then hit the interstate. She was back at the hotel within eight minutes. Work resumed as necessary.
Finally at around 4:30 PM, Maria told the front desk agent that she was going to go home for a while before she had to be back at the hotel in about 6 hours. She went home, but found she was unable to sleep. At 7 she got a call about a problem at the hotel. She grabbed a her Pride and Prejudice CD and got into the Altima. Cranked up the sound and played track 11, “ Bling, Bling Daddy.” She fixed the issues at the hotel and checked a baker’s dozen of rooms to ensure their perfection. Then, she left the hotel, only to return again at 10:30 PM for another round of the Night Audit.
On Tuesday, Maria was determined to find a car. Looking in papers, online, car pamphlets, etc. and utilizing parents, a suggestion arose that her aunt’s mini van could be a solution. Unfortunately, because Maria has not mastered the quality of humility, she declined on the intellect that she was only 22, single, and definitely without kids. Nor did she ever want to drive a mini van. The search for a car continued.
At noon, gold was struck in that her father found a vehicle. It was purchased. Arrangements were made to meet in Watertown, SD to pick the vehicle up. Maria asked her friend if he would help by driving the rental car back to Sioux City. He agreed. They left town at 6:00 PM. For some odd reason, he did not want to listen to classical music on the way up.
After the drive up, visiting briefly with her parents, driving back to Sioux City, and returning the rental car after filling it with gas; the final destination of home was reached at approximately 12:30 AM. Maria had to work at 6 AM the next morning.
Anyway… Sad day that my car died right? Well… now I drive a 1996 Ford Explorer XLT. (and yes, it has 4 wheel drive).
