Driving the Toaster in the Rain

He held stiff to the wheel. Hands clenched at 10 and 2. Concentrating. He knew the toaster wasn’t good in the wind. It jerked and jostle with each gust. 

Eleven years ago, the guy in the parking lot happily showed off his Honda Element. Wash it out with a hose he said. Great car for camping, dogs, and work. You can just fold the back seats up. He said nothing about the difficulties of having only fours seats, and you didn’t know then that soon you’d have a family of five and two dogs. The guy never talked about the challenges of getting in and out with the modified suicide doors when a car is parked in the space next to you. And certainly he said nothing about the aerodynamics.

Rain rivered across the windshield as the wipers fought to keep his vision clear. 

He battled the toaster for each “.58 cents a mile” mile trying to stay within the lines — like the coloring books of his youth.

He parked the toaster in the back of the dealership. Took out a piece of Flipchart paper and a pen, then scrawled the words, “BMW Trainer. In the breakroom.” After placing the paper on the dash, he opened the door and ran toward the storm.”