Time passed and I merged with my Red Real Metal symbol of Mars hand truck. I was fond of it, and I overloaded it with Bean Dip all the time. As a result, occasionally a joint would snap. Like the warehouse shack garage door, I used to back into and bash all the time, this is part of doing business.
Not to say I took it in stride because I didn’t. I am a Type A personality now and in this era? Same but to a larger than life degree. Type AAA you could say, so when my hand truck broke I’d become highly agitated, pissed off, sputtering… you know the drill for people like that, I mean people like me.
When you’re trying to haul things on a broken hand truck, the things you’re trying to haul tip over and you have to pick them up and start over and over and over until you can find a welder to repair the break. How many of you know a welder off the top of your head? I did. I knew a welder in every little rural town as a matter of fact, and all because of this routine problem.
Hand truck broken, invariably I would have to go off my route. I hated this because time was money but what could I do?
I would wind up driving down some desert dirt road for 10 miles, maybe more, headed to where some guy with a welding equipment lived, the whole time hoping he was home, awake, somewhat sober, safe, etc. You might imagine my glorious mood on days like this but the day of this story there was a different scenario.
Hand truck broken, nothing new there, but I was in a town where I knew a guy with a welder mounted on back of his truck.
Is the thing called “a welder” or is the person a welder? I didn’t know and it didn’t matter. He was a good guy to know, if you were a Frito Girl who sold a lot of bean dip.
I dialed him up and he agreed to meet me in the parking lot of a Circle K on the highway on the outskirts of town, and repair my hand truck right there. How lucky could I get? I’d only need to pull off the rural highway so there would be almost no down time and no risk.
We were two working people, both self employed for the most part. We were not paid when we were not working so the idea was to make this happen with minimal interference to our working day. He was coming off his job to help me out, see? This was pure favor and we planned to make it fast as in snappy!
I pulled in to the parking lot 10 minutes early and I was sorry to see that he was already there. I didn’t want him to have to wait for me because he was a Capricorn and I knew he hated that.
Crap!
I pulled my truck near his, and saw he was not pissed off. Whew! He surely would have been if I was late but I was not. If you are ever meeting a Capricorn, avoid being even 10 seconds late because you will not be forgiven and I do not exaggerate. If they say “no problem” I assure you they are lying.
I popped out of my truck, grabbing my hand truck in same motion. I did this all day so it was a smooth thing plus there was a man around and I have Libra.
It was summertime, well over 100 degrees. I’d planned to go in the store and get something to drink before he showed up, but instead he was ready to go and so I wouldn’t hold him up but man was it HOT.
I don’t know anything about welding. I barely said hi before he popped a shield down over his face. Wanting to help and be cordial and all, I indicated the break but he was wholly competent. He could see the break and he expertly welded the jagged edges together while I watched.
I saw him turn off the flame on his torch and pop his shield up. “You’re done,” he said and this is when I did it. I wrapped my hand around the RED hot weld and pick my hand truck up off the ground.
That’s right. 3000 degrees meets skin. My skin. Not only that, I couldn’t put it down. Shock I guess. I was frozen. I literally could not move, I could not scream. I was holding the thing with both hands clenched about 6 inches off the ground. My left hand was fine, my right hand… well I didn’t know. I couldn’t feel my right hand.
The Capricorn had his back turned replacing his torch to his truck. He turned around and saw the hand truck in my hands and screamed like an animal.
That did it. It gave me the jolt I need to let go. Eyes wide, I opened my fists and dropped the hand truck which hit the pavement with a clang.
Skip to part 3 – BURNED
Catch up here – Red Hand Truck – Part 1 – The Collision
…caught me way off guard. had me lulled into complacency, then OH NO! shivers up the spine. way off guard. OUCH! ((sorry even though it was a long time ago)). ***applause***
YIKES!
“If they say “no problem” I assure you they are lying” ha ha–soooo true
I picked up a frying pan by a burning hot handle with my bare hands once so I have some idea of how bad that was. I’m shuddering just thinking about it… your poor hands!!!!
Gah I remember this story and it makes my hand ache every single time. You, P, can tell one hell of a story.
Like … I know what’s coming and still I grab my hand and wait for the throb to pass.
Wow! That is superb story telling! Can you remember the astrology of that? It’s a timely warning today, thanks Elsa.
HOLY BALLS! O_O
Oh, that couldn’t have been fun at all. I once hit my knuckle on a 450° oven coil for just a few seconds and that hurt like a mother… I can’t imagine holding onto a fresh weld for that long. Yikes! *winces in sympathy*
My sympathy memory was the time I put my hand flat up against a hot iron. I was little, so it’s more of an echo now.
The bit about “no problem” for Capricorns got me, too. I say that regularly, and know every time that it’s a PROBLEM. I remember a life coach I knew a few years back who said, “watch how often you say “no problem.” I’m just starting to get out of denial. Better late than never, but then, no problem. At least it’s not a hot weld i’m talkin’ about here :-).