Deja Vu

It’s that time of year again – that time when some of us bundle into our cars and head up to beautiful, scenic Troy, NY. Time for the Bakerloo Theatre Project to, once again, enliven the greater Albany areas theater scene another summer of inventive and creative plays, this year another Shakespeare selection, The Tempest, and Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard.

Owing to the car troubles that we had last year, Special K and I decided that we shouldn’t risk it, and instead made arrangements to rent a car. We had elected to carpool with AS and her fella R, and after assembling at our house, we all bundled into our silver PT Cruiser and set off on our merry way, chatting and listening to music. As we neared exit 6 of the New Jersey Turnpike, Special K and I were talking about whether or not we should stop at Mastoris, a diner that was legendary in his family. When Special K was a young lad, growing up in southern New Jersey, his family stumbled across this gem and has made a point of revisiting it often.

Right about this time, the check engine light went on and the car died. On the New Jersey Turnpike. A 2007 PT Cruiser. (Also known as “A Car We Will NEVER Buy”.)

We called the Emergency Roadside Assistance folks from Enterprise, and in all fairness, they really did their best to help us. But there was one snag. Their records showed that we were driving a 15-passenger Chevy van. We gave them the tags, the registration number, and the VIN from the car we were driving, which had a paper tag for a keychain with a number scribbled on it in pen. They claimed that the car wasn’t in their system. It’s not that I didn’t believe them that the car wasn’t in their system, but I also thought it was highly unlikely that people would call and try to get them to pick up random cars, just to see if they would do it. So Special K was patient and persistent, and they eventually figured out who we were and what we were driving.

Then they said that AAA doesn’t pick up on the New Jersey Turnpike, so we’d have to do something about that. Our first attempt to re-start the car didn’t work. Eventually, about 10 minutes later, the car did go on again, and we made it to exit 7, and the Mastoris parking lot. K called the Roadside Assistance folks again, and they reviewed a few options with him. The only option that we refused flat out was continuing to drive the car up to Troy. If it had died once, none of us were confident that it wouldn’t do it again, and with night falling rapidly, none of us were comfortable with that prospect. So we went inside to eat some dinner and get our minds off the current predicament, as the folks at Roadside Assistance figured out what they could do to help us.

Keep in mind that, since the folks in MD had botched the paperwork, Special K had to explain who we were and what we were driving, which usually entailed 20 minutes of reading out the VIN, registration numbers, and all those things. Every time. I have to admit, the fact that this information couldn’t have been corrected was a bit confusing to me. And to R.

Dinner was delicious and enormous – Mastoris is not shy with their portions, and we ended up boxing up a decent portion of what we ate. Then we called Roadside Assistance back.

Their suggestions were to either drive to Philadelphia Airport, which would have involved major backtracking, or drive to Newark Airport, which would have been out of our way. Oh, and by the way they didn’t have any cars to rent us, and since the store in MD had botched the paperwork, they would have to release the vehicle before someone else could rent us one. Which they couldn’t do until they opened the next morning So after hours (literally) on the phone, it was decided that we were down to one option.

We had to stay overnight in Bordentown, NJ, they would tow the car we had, send a taxi to take us to a hotel, and the local Enterprise office would try to get us a car the next day.

Somewhere around midnight, the tow truck showed up. The guy was nice enough, making small talk, and he looked at me and said “So, how do you like the PT Cruiser?”

I am not making this up.

I looked at him quizzically for a moment, before saying “um…not so much.” He didn’t seem to understand that leaving us by the side of the road had soured me on the PT Cruiser, and that I was unlikely to look past that glaring flaw.

We then sat there, since our car got a ride out of the Mastoris parking lot before we did, with all of our stuff, attempting to not move from our spot. Unfortunately it’s a hopping place on a Friday night. One car attempted to pull in, to which AS looked at the driver sharply and said “please don’t park here.” Another car, stuffed to the hilt with Jersey girls, complete with hair, nails, and clearly visible nighttime makeup, started to pull in, saw us glaring at them, and then proceeded along down the parking lot, with much gesticulating. AS said “oh, no she didn’t!”, referring to the obvious attitude of the driver, at which point I whipped my head around and loudly said “I’ll kick that skinny bitch’s ass!”

Clearly I had lost my sense of humor about the evening’s events by that point.

We moved to a less high traffic area and our car arrived a shortly before 1 am. We crawled into the hotel, and were informed by the manager that the credit card number that AAA had faxed over was declined – did we have an alternate form of payment?

I am not making this up, either. It was the pickle on the crap sandwich of our evening.

After much more time on the phone, it was eventually sorted out and we each collapsed into our respective beds. Special K was up until 2ish sorting out further details for the next day. I was unconscious by the time he picked up the phone.

The next day arrived, and the waiting game started. We had to wait for the office in MD to open so that Enterprise could sort out the paperwork. Then we had to wait to see if the local Enterprise office could get us a car. If we didn’t leave by 10 am, we were going to miss the matinee performance of The Tempest. 10 am came and went. As did 11 am. And noon. Fortunately, the hotel management was very nice and let us stay past check-out time, because we had nowhere to go.

Finally, at 12:30, we heard that a car was coming to pick us up. We went to the office, which had stayed open past its closing time to help us, and were on our way in an enormous white Dodge Caravan by 1 pm. There was no way we’d make the matinee, but the evening show seemed do-able, and we were happy to be in something that was definitely NOT a PT Cruiser.

Fortunately, the rest of the drive was easy and uneventful, and we arrived in Troy by 5 pm, in time for the company’s barbeque that afternoon, called Shakespeare in the Pork. There was much hugging and gratitude from the Divine Miss M for our determined efforts to come see her, and much gratitude all around that we had, in fact, actually made it there.

A quick detour to the hotel for us to check in and freshen up, and we were back in Troy for dinner at Bacchus before the show. The pizza was delicious and the beer was cold, so there was nothing to complain about. We made it to the theater by 7:45 and were in our seats, awaiting the opening scenes of The Cherry Orchard.

Miss M was, as always, fabulous and moving and wonderful in her role, and it made me loathe Chekhov less – I’ve been assured that the translations we read in high school were atrocious. We all went to the pub at the student union after the show, as is tradition, and we each enjoyed a couple $2 beers. (Because how can you not enjoy a Sam Adams or Magic Hat for $2?) Fortunately, there were no roaming hooligans pelting people with eggs this year, and we all made it back to the hotel that night without incident.

The next morning, we arose and met Miss M and her family for brunch at the Country View Diner before setting off for DC. My Western omelette was worth every greasy bite, as was the consensus from those who had also gone the savory breakfast route. Fortunately, all those who got pancakes or French toast were equally happy – the diner does breakfast well, as do basically all real diners. That’s one thing I do miss about living in the greater NY/NJ/CT area – diners here are a novelty; there, they’re a mainstay. Our time with her was over far too quickly, but we were grateful for what we had, nonetheless. We decided to caravan back with Brunette and her fella, stopping by Rutt’s Hutt, a Clifton, New Jersey mainstay, famous for it’s fried hot dogs and special relish. And apparently its Peking duck. Who knew?

The hot dogs were, indeed, delicious, as were the onion rings. The duck, which we all ended up sharing to some degree, was actually quite good as well. The atmosphere was pure Sopranos, but the food was delicious, and everyone seemed to look like a Baldwin. It was awesome.

From there, we decided that a return trip to Mastoris was in order, although we were all too full to contemplate another full meal, we certainly felt like some take-out was in order. Upon rolling up to the scene of our Friday night hijinks, we fondly looked at our old spot, now occupied by another vehicle. We also shot daggers at the PT Cruiser we happened to spot in the lot, just because the entire line now fills me with ire. (So, if the towing guy is reading this, I still don’t like the PT Cruiser.)

Special K and I each got a BLT to go, as well as some treats for later. After an hour or so, I started to feel a little room in my belly, and my thoughts immediately turned to that BLT. While I don’t recommend that anyone, most definitely including me, eat like this on a regular basis, I have to say that it was totally worth it. Mastoris does not whimp out on their BLTs – bacon is the main event. As it should be. I took over driving from Special K, who had done all of it to that point, so that he could enjoy his sandwich properly, and the rest of our ride home was peaceful. (Although apparently it’s not nice to go over speed bumps when your husband has already finished his large coffee.)

K and I arrived home to see our lovely little kitties waiting to see us, and I went downstairs to put something away. And found more farking water in our basement. Of course I did. Of course. So we spent a good 20 – 30 minutes sweeping the water toward the drain in the floor and sopping up the rest of the water with the towels that were in the dryer, still there from Thursday night’s cleanup efforts. By the time we were done, we each had our cannoli that we’d brought from Mastoris, and then went to bed, anticipating what we would say, should anyone at Enterprise give us any crap whatsoever about the car we had to return Monday morning. Fortunately, they agreed with our assertion that, since our trip had been largely ruined by this, that we shouldn’t have to pay for the car. I let Special K do the talking, because while I’m capable of being nice and calm and very patient if I have to, he seems to be better at it than me. (See the skinny bitch comment above…)

What else could there be to say, you ask? Well, only this: K’s car is in the shop again because it’s begun to hemorrhage coolant. The repairs will be at least $1100 and could be as much as $1600, which no longer feels like a good investment, since this would be the third or fourth major repair to Whitey since we’ve been married. I’m so frustrated, and I really feel defeated in a way, because just when I feel like we’re really able to be making some good progress, something happens to kick us right in the butt. We’re still weighing options right now, but a new car may be in our future. I’m really grateful that we’re now able to make a car payment if we really need to. I’m also really happy that this didn’t happen six months ago. So it could be worse, but this is definitely a big setback.

We may try to make it for a while with one car, but since that one car will be my 1997 Elantra, I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that being our only car. So we have some big choices to ponder over the next few weeks. It’s just so frustrating, because this will slow us down. We’re not considering at anything very high-end or expensive, but it would need to be something that lasts. We’re also not sure about buying a used car – we’re open to the idea, but we could be back in this same situation in a year and that makes us nervous, since we feel like we’ve already thrown away quite enough money for a while. So we’re weighing options and I know K also feels really frustrated.

Basically, the last several days have felt a lot more difficult than they needed to be. There have been some definite bright spots, but it feels like something is trying to drag us down.

But, as I’ve tried to remind myself many, many times over, including the paragraph before last, things are manageable, and I’m grateful that they’ve come at a time when we’ve had the means to manage them. I know that we’re really very lucky, it just takes a while to spot sometimes.