So, I have a cover for my car and yes, I get razzed because I go through the trouble of putting it on my car when it is parked at work. But let me explain my reasoning for even buying a car cover. Since my car is deep red (a color that fades and oxidizes faster than almost any other color besides purple – trust me, I know this from my days as a sign painter) I purchased a UV cover, shiny in appearance, that protects my paint (and interior) from the harmful effects of the sun. I know it sounds like a commercial and I do pamper my car, it’s true. Only because I hang on to my cars and want them to stay “tight” (it’s what all the kids are calling it).
Fast forward now to a few days ago; I put my cover on before our morning editorial meeting like every other hot day, content in knowing those pesky UV rays were not doing their damage on my car; sneering at my colleagues foolish enough to let their cars bake in the Utah sun. I had just returned from covering my story for the day and noticed some of the people in the news room were looking at me as if they were the cat that swallowed the canary. I knew something was up and then I saw it! My baby had been violated, sitting there naked and glistening in the sweltering heat! Where was the cover in which I took such care to cloak my car?!
No one was talking and I couldn’t investigate. I had a story to write and present. Walking off the set I made a bee-line to the chief engineer’s office and asked to see the station’s surveillance video. He told me he would do his best. As I returned to my desk I wondered who could’ve done such an evil act! What revenge would I exact when I found out? I didn’t even know where my custom car cover was. It had vanished!
It came to me in an e-mail; video from the chief engineer entitled: “Tomfoolery.” Barely able to contain my anticipation, my trembling fingers double-clicked the mouse. I would now expose the culprits and plan out my pay-back. There they were! Three of my colleagues and so-called friends: Reporter Chris Jones, Assignment Editor John Gleason, and photographer Aaron Kimball were there in plain sight hovering around my car! As I continued to watch, it happened. Just like the Grinch that Stole Christmas, my black heart, full of revenge started to soften. These “pranksters” were playing their practical joke executing it with, there’s no other way to describe it, tender loving care. With painstaking precision and reverence they gently lifted and folded my UV cover and placed it on unsuspecting producer Chris Avery’s car.
Seeing it unfold on video eased my fears and imaginings of faceless brutes ripping, tearing and scratching my pricy cover and car finish. How could I still be mad? How could I hold a grudge against my considerate colleagues? Perhaps I will return the favor some day. Perhaps it might involve Chris Jones’ new Toyota Yaris. Hehehehe, keep watching.
