“I‘m afraid it’s a bigger repair than we thought,” said the friendly man at the garage.
“How much bigger?”
The customer’s vehicle had already been repaired that morning, but a surprise oil leak had necessitated a speedy return.
She’d noticed the leak while driving to a dog park, so this time she had company. Her companion was thrilled by his surroundings: he wanted to sniff everything, and kiss everyone.
“Two hours and $300.”
“Ugh, but I’ve already–”
“We’ll waive the first repair costs, and to make up for the inconvenience we’ll give you a rental car.”
The customer was mollified. It was too bad that she’d lost part of a busy day, but sometimes that’s how it goes. Oil pans need repairs, things fall apart, the center cannot hold, etc.
Anyway, the weather was lovely. While the rental was set up she could walk the dog briefly, and though she had a long list of work and errands she’d at least have wheels. There was still time to get everything done.
Optimism is a wonderful quality, isn’t it? It brings sunshine into moments of tedium. It helps make a person more forgiving of others, more amiable in life’s little difficulties, perhaps more resilient and long-lived.
Alas, optimism is not always a useful predictor of actual outcomes. Sometimes optimism is misplaced.
Sometimes a person’s optimism is misplaced because something else is misplaced.
“So I just need your credit card and driver’s license and we’ll get you out of here,” said the guy at the rental place, about an hour later.
The weather was still lovely, though the day’s to-do-list-conquering window was considerably smaller. The children would need picking up soon and the dog was restive. Nonetheless, the customer had made it this far.
“Here’s my credit card,” she said perkily, handing it over, “And here is … wait a sec … where is it?”
The dog barked.
“Where’s my license where’s my license where’s my license?” the customer murmured frantically under her breath.
The dog barked again. The sound jolted her memory.
Oh no! She’d taken her driver’s license out of her wallet the day before so that she’d have ID in her pocket while walking the dog. Her license was in her jacket, which was hanging in a closet … at home.
“Could I… drive home and get it?” she asked hopefully. “I would come right back?”
The man shook his head gravely.
“Could I have my husband fax you a copy of his license and we put me down as an extra driver then I drive home and get it and bring it back?”
Nothing doing. Tears of frustration sprang into the customer’s eyes as the day’s window of opportunity slammed shut.
What was she going to do? No car, no license: She was stranded with the dog and school would be getting out soon.
“M’am,” the man said, carefully, “How about we give you a ride to your house so you can get your license?”
“Really?” She blinked back her tears.
The day had been a complete waste. She was three hundred bucks out on a repair and she’d accomplished nothing.
Good thing I’m an optimist, she thought: At least the weather is nice.
Meghan Cox Gurdon’s column appears on Sunday and Thursday. She can be contacted at [email protected].
