My Man Victor

I promised to give you the down-low on my one man calvary the evening of The Ugly Flat Tire Saga. 

 

I waited and waited, and then I waited a wee bit more. AAA isn't known for dispatching quickly. 

 

Ron's Towing eventually pulls into Ranch parking. Out steps a tall lanky gentleman. He is as full of stuffing as a Christmas turkey from the start. And this — his sense of humor — won me over lightening fast. 

 

I'd removed more than nine years of memories from my trunk. Everything was ready to go. In my right hand I held the secret to Victor's happiness this particular evening. He walks around to inspect pancake-flat tire, walks to the back of my car and states, "Tell me you have the..." and before he can continue I hold up my right hand, revealing the little wheel lock device, along with a big ol smile. I swear he almost hugged me. "YES," he yells, smiling from ear to ear, "You made my night!" 

 

Any time I ask him a serious question he exaggerates by a Texas mile, just waiting for me to lose my stuff. The death stare dialed in full force, I read him each time, to my advantage. He doesn't push tired mama, nope, not when I whip out the death glare. He quickly tells me the truth, only to yank my chain again a few minutes later, I suspect just to get a rise out of me. He's playing a dangerous game, one at which he's proficient. As am I, when absolutely necessary. 

 

We laughed almost the entire time he changed my tire. 

 

As he's preparing to leave he tells me, "As long as I can make you laugh I figure we're good."

 

Yes sir, we're good. 

 

Laughter is good medicine. 

 

Thank you Victor for making a difficult night easier to bear. You made my night too. 

 

Ron's Towing, whatever you pay him, double it.