Tuesday, May 23
Finally the tale of the cut on Rich’s eyebrow is ready to be explained.
Remember this photo?
Here is the story in Rich’s words (and a photo re-enactment).
After unloading the luggage, Linda took the lift to the room while I sought out the self-park. In the lot I needed to put the car into reverse to maneuver into a spot. Try as I might, however, the car wouldn’t cooperate. I studied the shifter knob. “R” was shown to the far left and denoted with a forward arrow.
I tried pushing the knob down and shifting. Nope – still in gear forward.
I tried pushing the knob excessively forward. Nope – still forward.
I tried pulling the knob up and shifting. Nope.
Geez, in a former life, I used to be a mechanical engineer. Seems like I should be able to figure this out.
I leaned over again and studied the knob. Grabbing it with both hands this time, I again pulled upward with force and shifted.
Lo and behold, the knob came flying off the shifter …
…and squarely into my left eyebrow.
I saw stars.
I actually continued to mess with it until I noticed the drops of blood. Wiping it away, I soon had two handfuls of blood and no rag. I had to abandon the fight – the car won.
Later that afternoon we found the concierge whom Linda had emailed during planning. Of course, she noticed my cut eye and I had to explain the whole silly story. In fact, she generously followed us back out to the parking lot to examine the shifter, since we still needed to get the car into reverse in order to exit.
Below the damned knob was a damned sleeve, and you had to lift the sleeve up and simultaneously shift. Duh! Well, I sure got the “up” part right.