It was the first new car we ever bought. She had served us well for over 18 years, but the time had come for her to retire. We had to face the fact that she didn't run as well as she used to. The days when the speedometer first read 100,000 miles could potentially be referred to as "the good old days". And the big dent in the front driver's side testified that she had seen better days.
We considered several options. Junk her, or sell her for parts. But in the end we decided to donate her to a charitable group and let her have one last act of benefiting a good cause; while we got the tax credit. A win - win arrangement. Emails were sent, phone calls were placed, arrangements were made for her to be picked up.
The morning the tow truck was expected arrived. The car would be picked up "sometime in the morning, before lunch time". Not a very narrow window, but I was assured that the man of the house was to receive a phone call when they were on their way and he would let me know to expect them.
I started about my day, and since it was still early and I had no message from the man of the house yet I decided I probably had time for a quick shower before the tow truck arrived. After all, I could leave my phone on the bathroom counter where I would hear it. If the man of the house called or texted, I would have time to wrap up the cleaning process and get dressed before they arrived. That was a huge error in judgment.
Just as I put a nice thick coat of conditioner on my hair I heard the noise. "Hmmm. That sounds like a big truck" I know that the garbage is picked up on Tuesdays in our neighborhood, so that couldn't explain the large truck sounds. "No. Oh no. It can't be!" I leaned out of the shower and peeked through the window. Oh yes, it can be! There coming up the road was a flat bed truck!
I immediately went into panic mode. No time to rinse the conditioner out of my hair! I leaped from the shower, gave my phone a quick glance (no missed calls or waiting text messages) and grabbed a towel. No.... no. A towel is NOT going to cut it. As I hastily dried, I glanced around the room at my possibilities. No way I am answering the door in a robe. PJ's? Not much better.
Feeling my anxiety growing, I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and threw them on; slipping my feet into some flip flops as I rushed to the front door to greet the tow truck driver. No makeup. Hair still wet and full of conditioner. But it was better than the other immediate options.
Once I had given the driver the paperwork needed for the car, and made sure he had the keys; I trudged back through the wet grass in my flip flops and into the house. Sent a text to the man of the house. No, he hadn't been given the promised heads up that the truck was on the way either. (sigh)
In the end, all was well. The car was donated. The possible worst of the embarrassment was avoided. And a lesson was learned:
The next time you find yourself thinking "I probably have time for a quick shower before they get here." - DON'T!!