The Retrieval Of Rufus

Part One: The Kindness Kettlecorn Whiplash Event

A few months ago our family went on an epic two month long road trip. Near the end of our road trip, our dear one ton diesel truck Rufus blew his injectors and engine. Little did we know at the time, but Rufus’ ailments were going to throw us into a series of events and experiences unto the likes of which we were little prepared for.

Bright and early Thursday morning my husband and I boarded a plane to Phoenix, Arizona to go collect our truck. Rufus has been left in Las Cruces, New Mexico because the installation of his new innards was one big catastrophe after another. We had finally got the call that he was done and running, so we left the other morning with smiles on our faces and a touch of apprehension in our bellies. Sure the truck was “done,” but after everything that we had gone through with it, we were just a little concerned as to what level of life excitement we were getting into.

Our flight progressed nicely, we met an excellent plane captain from British Columbia who we hit it off with, and even got to Phoenix fifteen minutes early. As we had a six hour drive to Las Cruces ahead of us, we were pretty happy with how things were progressing, especially when we found ourselves sipping out of the rental car parking garage and Phoenix before noon.

My mom called to check on us and wish us a safe journey. I had just hung up with her and was having a discussion with my hubs as to where we should stop and get a bite to eat since we hadn’t yet ate that day when, BAM! My head flew forward like an addled cow slammed into a stock chute.

My husband had been in the process of slowing down for construction when a lady in a white SUV nailed us from behind. We both looked at each other in complete disbelief. Did we really just get rear ended on the freeway?

The driver of the SUV was a lovely woman who descended on us fully engulfed in a state of tears. Apparently she thought she had really injured me as my head had flailed about quite wildly. It took us a few minutes to assure her that we were okay. We then spent the next few hours dealing with the state patrol, the rental car company, and a whole passel of disbelieving and concerned family and friends.

By the time we got everything squared away it was after three, so I called ahead and got us a hotel room in Las Cruces.. At that point we were still in a bit of shock, but I knew that we needed to eat, so we whipped into Tucson for a bite. It felt pretty styling in our crushed trunk Nissan too. Especially since we pulled into some 1%er outlet malls north of Tucson. That poor car looked right at home with the BMW’s and Land Rovers.

The only reason we stopped at the luxury outlet mall thing was that I had found out that the place had Hawaiian bbq. It sounded good. As we were driving in I saw that there was a kettle corn stand by one of the main entry doors. I told my hubs that I would get him some road corn on the way out.

After a refreshing plate lunch of Kalua pork, Katsu chicken, steamed rice, and Hawaiian macaroni salad, I found myself hopping out of our freshly wrinkled rental car and running up to the kettle corn stand. A woman of middle years was sitting in the stand and uttered,

”Hello.”

Hi,” I said in return, ”How are you doing today?”

Now, I tend to great everyone this way. One, because manners were and still are important to my momma, and two, because I genuinely care about how most folks are doing.

She looked at me and smiled, and I handed six dollars to her for a medium kettle corn.

”I’d like a medium kettle corn please.” I said.

She replied while handing me a dollar back, ”For you it’s only five dollars. You see, for years I offered a military discount, a nurses discount, a teachers discount, and so on, but a year ago I just started offering a kindness discount instead of all of them, because kindness is where it’s at.”

Now let me tell you, by that point I had been up for almost twenty four hours, been in a car wreck, flown from the top a the country to the bottom, was pretty sure I looked like something your neighbor’s cat had left on your front porch two weeks ago, and was barely hanging in there emotionally because this truck thing has been one giant pain the flintlocks, so that lady’s words just knocked me for a loop.

”Thank you.” I replied with a big smile on my face.

”It’s in short supply, kindness, and it should be rewarded.”

You see, I’ve made it my goal to try to live a life of kindness. Little did I know just how much that sentiment was going to be and still is being tested as we speak. The Rufus retrieval has been anything but smooth, and as I type this first of a few posts I find myself remembering what that kettle corn purveyor said to me and am striving to hold onto that kindness. It’s not always an easy thing to do, even for a tends to be kind most of the time hobbit such as myself. And on that notE I will end this post, for the next one is still being written as I sit here and try to breathe, in Hatch, New Mexico.