2 min read

Screwups, etc.

Do you ever feel like you screw up more consistently and more spectacularly than other people?

Yeah, me neither. I was just wondering.

So, last week I was working with my friend Cheech (real name, Ciro – it’s Italian) and he asked me to hitch up his trailer to his truck while he was brushing his teeth or something. So I backed the truck up about eight times and finally got it in place and lowered the tongue onto the ball and put the chains on and everything. So we left and not even a minute down the road the trailer hits a bump, goes crazy, and attacks us from behind.

Cheech got rear-ended by his own trailer. He said, ‘This has never happened to me when I put the trailer on.’ We got out and the tongue was wedged up under the bumper. Thank God there was no damage to his truck or who knows what would have happened. Remember, he’s Italian. It was my fault for not locking the hitch at all, let alone securely. And it’s not like I’ve never hooked up a trailer before.

Earlier this year my co-worker, Luciano, and I were dropping off the food and dishes and everything for one of the schools we catered for. We took everything out of the van, put it in the cafeteria and left. Just like every other day. The van we use is sectioned off behind the front seats, so you can’t see anything in the back. We get to the next school, the one where we actually stay and serve the food. I’m backing up into our usual spot and, rear view mirror telling me we have plenty of room, we hit something.

I was thinking there’s no way we could have hit anything. We’re not even close. Luciano gets out and looks and just stands there. He waves me to come look. The back doors are wide open. They’ve been open since we left the last school. Neither of us closed them when we got back in the van. Nothing had tumbled out or spilled. And the van we had hit was already pretty wrecked up. We couldn’t tell where the door ran into it.

Another time I put some thermoses of coffee in a crate. A few miles down the road I ask Lucci if he smells coffee. The thermoses have fallen out and spilled coffee all over the back of the van. Another guy from the restaurant has to bring us more.

Another time I forgot to pick up Harmony, a coworker’s twelve year old daughter, from school. Poor Harmony.

These are just a few examples of the complete lack of common sense I display on a regular basis. And despite all of it I’ve still got a monster ego. I don’t know how much more it can take.