At Macy's, we had hourly sales quotas. Mine was $50/hr. That would not be hard to do, if I sold a piece of luggage, but it was harder when we didn't have any customers. So, I would hang out in Housewares to try and make that goal. That was when the phone rang.
I answered, and it was the TTY operator on the other end. She is someone who is a person who helps someone who may be deaf or mute communicate with someone on the phone. A person will type in their conversation to the operator, and then she will read it to the other person, like me. I then would respond, and she would type it out for the other person to read and respond. It is a long process, but very needed in this world.
So, she told me who she was and that she had someone wanting to know if we had 25 rice cookers which were on sale for $50 each. I checked and came back to the phone to say that we did. She then gave me a credit card number and an address to ship the rice cookers to. This sale would make my whole week for sales. I wouldn't have to do anything for the rest of the week. I could just chill. The address she gave me was in Miami. Wait a minute. I got to thinking. Macy's had a least two stores in Miami, and both were much bigger than ours. In fact, Macy's had a grading system for stores based on size and sales. Miami were "A" stores. Columbia was a "C" store for most things like Housewares. Why would someone from Miami call a small store and have to be a whole bunch of shipping, when they could go to one of the big Macy's stores in Miami and load up their pick up truck with rice cookers. It just didn't make sense. I had a number to call after I had figured up the shipping to give them a total.
Instead, I got the number for one of the Macy's stores in Miami and got hold of their Housewares Dept. When they answered, I just asked if they had a particular rice cooker that was advertised, and they said they did. I then asked if they had more than 25 in stock. The associate checked and came back and said they had at least 50. If a store was sold out of an item, they could do an "item locator" on the register to see which stores had them and how many. So, this person in Miami could not have gone to Macy's and had them to an item locator. In fact, there are many Macy's stores between Miami and Columbia that could have filled the request. The light went off in my head, and I asked the associate to transfer me to their security department. When I got that person, I told him who I was and what had happened. I asked him if he had a street directory to tell me who lived at the address I got from the caller. It turned out to be a UPS store that had a drop box. The security man said not to send the product. It must be a scam.
After I hung up the phone, I went to our security office and told our person about what had happened. One thing we figured out was that the card number I was given was stolen, because when I asked for the 3-digit number o the back of the card, they gave me the last three digits of the card number. The register rejected the transaction. I called the TTY operator, who in turn called the person back, and told them the card had been rejected. That person said that was not a problem and proceeded to give me another card number. That was rejected, too. That person said no problem and said they would try later.
Our security person was working with me on this strange call, and we decided it would be best if I would be the one to get the call if the TTY operator called again. The next day, she did. This time it was for sets of cookware. I went through the same procedure with her, and she gave me an address in New York. Un huh. The flagship Macy's store is in New York. Why call little old Columbia? It was obvious that there was something wrong, so our security person contacted the FBI. They told her that they had been trying to catch these people for some time. They were using stolen credit card numbers to buy large quantities of items for the Home. The store would then send the items to an address. That person would receive the merchandise and then resell it on Craigslist, eBay, or elsewhere, and then take 10% out for themselves. They would then send the rest of the money to some people in West Africa. That money would fund terrorist operations.
The FBI told us what to do. When the TTY operator called, tell her not to type what I was telling her. That it was for her ears only. I told her who these people were, and that we needed to get as much information as possible. Name, address, phone number, and when they could be reached. She would tell them the transaction went through (even though it didn't) and how much it was. We would have the card number which was turned over to the FBI along with these addresses. We had addresses all over the country including California, Ohio, Florida, New York, Georgia, and many more. The FBI used those addresses to arrest the people receiving stolen goods, and contacted the people whose credit numbers had been stolen. I heard later that a computer store in Ohio had also been contacted. The FBI put out a nationwide bulletin on these people and their MO using TTY operators. This computer store got the bulletin. They got a large computer box and filled it with cement blocks and porn magazines instead of a computer. I thought that was creative. I wished I had thought of that.
The money stopped flowing to this terror group in Africa. Their operation was exposed. I don't know if anyone did anything to him, but at least this scheme was stopped. I wonder what would have happened if another associate instead of me had answered that call for the rice cookers. I guess that I just have an inquisitive mind and a nose that smelled something fishy.
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
Friday, November 1, 2019
Barbie
As you probably have seen from some of my posts, there have been some people that have taken me into their homes and welcomed me into their lives. One was in my last post, and another is in this one.
I worked with a woman named Peggy. Her husband died just before my Mother did, and we shared a common bond. Peggy was about 20 years older than me. She had won a contest at Macy's and was flown to England to see the Wedgwood China factory and have tea with Sara Ferguson, when she was still married to Prince Andrew.
One day, Peggy asked if I wanted to go to an apple farm in North Carolina. I had never been to one, but it sounded like fun. She told me to bring a jacket. It was warm in Columbia, so I didn't think I needed a jacket. When we got to the mountains, it was absolutely freezing. She said I could wear her granddaughter's jacket, which was in the car. I agreed, but found it had the Barbie doll logo on it. I put it on anyway. There were a lot of people there at the farm, and everybody pointed at me and laughed. The jacket was warm, so I just had to accept the stares. We had lunch up there at a good restaurant, and the workers there pointed and laughed. I think I cheered up a lot of people that day, and there are probably folks even today laughing about the 52-year old man wearing a Barbie jacket. That's okay. At least, I learned to take a jacket when going to the mountains. Don't be macho about it. Comfort is more important.
I worked with a woman named Peggy. Her husband died just before my Mother did, and we shared a common bond. Peggy was about 20 years older than me. She had won a contest at Macy's and was flown to England to see the Wedgwood China factory and have tea with Sara Ferguson, when she was still married to Prince Andrew.
One day, Peggy asked if I wanted to go to an apple farm in North Carolina. I had never been to one, but it sounded like fun. She told me to bring a jacket. It was warm in Columbia, so I didn't think I needed a jacket. When we got to the mountains, it was absolutely freezing. She said I could wear her granddaughter's jacket, which was in the car. I agreed, but found it had the Barbie doll logo on it. I put it on anyway. There were a lot of people there at the farm, and everybody pointed at me and laughed. The jacket was warm, so I just had to accept the stares. We had lunch up there at a good restaurant, and the workers there pointed and laughed. I think I cheered up a lot of people that day, and there are probably folks even today laughing about the 52-year old man wearing a Barbie jacket. That's okay. At least, I learned to take a jacket when going to the mountains. Don't be macho about it. Comfort is more important.
Monday, October 21, 2019
Stones
Back in 1996, I was working at Rich's. My parents were living at Martha Franks Retirement Community in Laurens, SC. I was no longer experiencing family holidays like I should, so one of my coworkers named Thom invited me to spend Christmas with them. They lived in St. Matthews, SC. It was about 30 miles from Columbia. His wife was Mary Ann, and they had two children--Payton and Nathan.
I accepted their offer. St. Matthews is a small town in Calhoun County and is the best example of Mayberry that I have ever seen. The people there were very warm and friendly. I had not experienced a small town Christmas before, and I loved it. They welcomed me into their home and into their lives. From then on, I spent almost all holidays with them, and many days that weren't special occasions. I became a part of their family. Being part of a family was very important to me. I had that at Kilbourne Park with the Wises, and in Ft. Worth with the Millers. Now, it was the Stones.
Thom and Mary Ann introduced me to their church, too. It was First Baptist, and the pastor was Tommy Huggins. He had been there for years, and I think still is. I had been a member of large churches, so this atmosphere was foreign to me, but I ate it up. For almost 13 years, I spent my free time with them. When Thom opened a mattress store in Orangeburg, I was there on my days off. He even let me put some of my autographed memorabilia to sell in his store. When his store closed, we were back to playing at his house.
Thom and I wanted to open a store together for music and memorabilia. We found one in Cayce at the Parkland Plaza shopping center. It was 1600sf and was perfect. Our plan was to stock my product. I also had several friends that wanted to put their stuff in the store on consignment. We also planned to stock music books and sheet music for the schools in the area. We gave a verbal commitment to the real estate agent, but another person came in with money, and the agent took his offer over ours. It was very disappointing. Sometimes, your word is not as important as the green stuff.
They taught me how to play dominoes, which became somewhat cutthroat. Nathan taught me how to put together buildings with Legos. They also took me to visit Mary Ann's father in a nursing home in Columbia. We went several times. When my father died, they drove to Greenwood for his funeral. When Thom's mother died, I went to her visitation and funeral. Thom was a big fan of Pink Floyd, so I whispered in his ear "Comfortably Numb". He knew what I meant, because I found it to be true to get through my parents' deaths.
I was also accepted by Thom's brother Buddy who lived in Florida along with his wife. Thom also introduced me to several other friends including one called Rod. He is kind of famous, but I will leave it at that. One of Thom's relatives was on "The Bachelor", and they were mobbed at a restaurant while the TV show was on.
One Christmas, Thom got a gas-powered helicopter. We worked to put it together. It was a very cold day. Once we were ready for the first test flight, he turned it on and it flew up into a tree. We couldn't get it down. End of the helicopter. We ran back into the house to get warm. I loved being there for those many years. I'll write more later as to what happened to the end of that time in St. Matthews.
I accepted their offer. St. Matthews is a small town in Calhoun County and is the best example of Mayberry that I have ever seen. The people there were very warm and friendly. I had not experienced a small town Christmas before, and I loved it. They welcomed me into their home and into their lives. From then on, I spent almost all holidays with them, and many days that weren't special occasions. I became a part of their family. Being part of a family was very important to me. I had that at Kilbourne Park with the Wises, and in Ft. Worth with the Millers. Now, it was the Stones.
Thom and Mary Ann introduced me to their church, too. It was First Baptist, and the pastor was Tommy Huggins. He had been there for years, and I think still is. I had been a member of large churches, so this atmosphere was foreign to me, but I ate it up. For almost 13 years, I spent my free time with them. When Thom opened a mattress store in Orangeburg, I was there on my days off. He even let me put some of my autographed memorabilia to sell in his store. When his store closed, we were back to playing at his house.
Thom and I wanted to open a store together for music and memorabilia. We found one in Cayce at the Parkland Plaza shopping center. It was 1600sf and was perfect. Our plan was to stock my product. I also had several friends that wanted to put their stuff in the store on consignment. We also planned to stock music books and sheet music for the schools in the area. We gave a verbal commitment to the real estate agent, but another person came in with money, and the agent took his offer over ours. It was very disappointing. Sometimes, your word is not as important as the green stuff.
They taught me how to play dominoes, which became somewhat cutthroat. Nathan taught me how to put together buildings with Legos. They also took me to visit Mary Ann's father in a nursing home in Columbia. We went several times. When my father died, they drove to Greenwood for his funeral. When Thom's mother died, I went to her visitation and funeral. Thom was a big fan of Pink Floyd, so I whispered in his ear "Comfortably Numb". He knew what I meant, because I found it to be true to get through my parents' deaths.
I was also accepted by Thom's brother Buddy who lived in Florida along with his wife. Thom also introduced me to several other friends including one called Rod. He is kind of famous, but I will leave it at that. One of Thom's relatives was on "The Bachelor", and they were mobbed at a restaurant while the TV show was on.
One Christmas, Thom got a gas-powered helicopter. We worked to put it together. It was a very cold day. Once we were ready for the first test flight, he turned it on and it flew up into a tree. We couldn't get it down. End of the helicopter. We ran back into the house to get warm. I loved being there for those many years. I'll write more later as to what happened to the end of that time in St. Matthews.
Friday, September 27, 2019
Mother
I have been accused of being a Mama's Boy. I did defend my mother against a fellow 6th grader, because my mother wore dresses, and his mother wore pants. It seems dumb now, but it was a big deal in the 6th grade. My mother introduced me to many things like Beatles music and James Bond movies. My father travelled a lot, so she sort of raised me.
When we put her and my father into Martha Franks Retirement Center in 1994, she already had a massive stroke in 1991. My brother and I felt it was just a matter of time before she passed on. We were all surprised that Daddy went first in 1999. Around Thanksgiving 2003, we got a call from the nurses at Martha Franks. Mother had stopped eating. My brother and I talked about it and told the nurses to force feed her. We were not prepared to lose her. They forced her to eat, and she got better. However, this was not the last call we got from the nurses. The same call every couple of months. The same answer from us each time.
But then in July 2004, we were all getting tired. It was obvious that Mother wanted to go to be with God in Heaven. She couldn't speak very well, but her actions spoke volumes. We got a call from the nurses, and we decided it was time to let her go. So on July 8, 2004, our mother joined our father, her sister and brothers, and many of her friends in Heaven.
My brother and I went to Greenwood to arrange for her burial next to Daddy in Magnolia Cemetery. We chose the cheapest casket that Blyth Funeral Home had, because all of the money had gone to take care of Mother. A few years before, Daddy's insurance money had dried up for Mother, so Martha Franks told us that any memorials at her death would be designated to Martha Franks to cover the cost of her bills. After everything was paid, my brother and I split the rest of the money left over. It was $16. Mother had wanted to be buried next to her parents in the cemetery in Heflin, Alabama, but the cost was just too much to do that. In 2013, my brother arranged to have a memorial stone placed in Heflin to honor our mother. We went down there and had a service. Mother would have liked that.
Mother was lying in repose at the funeral home, and they told us we could have a short time with her. My brother and his wife went in together, but I waited. I wanted to be alone with her. When I went into the room, there was music playing over the Muzak. As I stood there at the casket, the song "Till There Was You" began to play. That song was done by The Beatles in 1964. The same time my mother told me about them. That song was on the first Beatles album I ever had. That song was the one I was going to do at the auditions for the Ted Mack Amateur Hour, but I got sick and couldn't do it. I began to sing to her lying in the casket. To this day, I can't hear that song without tearing up. There were security cameras in the room, but I managed to slip a Paul McCartney pinback button into her casket without anyone seeing. Paul was her favorite Beatle. It was payback to her for changing my life. I guess it will be worth a whole bunch of money, if someone digs it up long into the future. We had a small graveside service for Mother. That was all she wanted. One day, I will buried alongside my parents at Magnolia Cemetery. There is one spot left in the family plot, and it is reserved for me. Maybe, put a James Bond DVD from the Sean Connery days in my casket. Thanks, Mother.
When we put her and my father into Martha Franks Retirement Center in 1994, she already had a massive stroke in 1991. My brother and I felt it was just a matter of time before she passed on. We were all surprised that Daddy went first in 1999. Around Thanksgiving 2003, we got a call from the nurses at Martha Franks. Mother had stopped eating. My brother and I talked about it and told the nurses to force feed her. We were not prepared to lose her. They forced her to eat, and she got better. However, this was not the last call we got from the nurses. The same call every couple of months. The same answer from us each time.
But then in July 2004, we were all getting tired. It was obvious that Mother wanted to go to be with God in Heaven. She couldn't speak very well, but her actions spoke volumes. We got a call from the nurses, and we decided it was time to let her go. So on July 8, 2004, our mother joined our father, her sister and brothers, and many of her friends in Heaven.
My brother and I went to Greenwood to arrange for her burial next to Daddy in Magnolia Cemetery. We chose the cheapest casket that Blyth Funeral Home had, because all of the money had gone to take care of Mother. A few years before, Daddy's insurance money had dried up for Mother, so Martha Franks told us that any memorials at her death would be designated to Martha Franks to cover the cost of her bills. After everything was paid, my brother and I split the rest of the money left over. It was $16. Mother had wanted to be buried next to her parents in the cemetery in Heflin, Alabama, but the cost was just too much to do that. In 2013, my brother arranged to have a memorial stone placed in Heflin to honor our mother. We went down there and had a service. Mother would have liked that.
Mother was lying in repose at the funeral home, and they told us we could have a short time with her. My brother and his wife went in together, but I waited. I wanted to be alone with her. When I went into the room, there was music playing over the Muzak. As I stood there at the casket, the song "Till There Was You" began to play. That song was done by The Beatles in 1964. The same time my mother told me about them. That song was on the first Beatles album I ever had. That song was the one I was going to do at the auditions for the Ted Mack Amateur Hour, but I got sick and couldn't do it. I began to sing to her lying in the casket. To this day, I can't hear that song without tearing up. There were security cameras in the room, but I managed to slip a Paul McCartney pinback button into her casket without anyone seeing. Paul was her favorite Beatle. It was payback to her for changing my life. I guess it will be worth a whole bunch of money, if someone digs it up long into the future. We had a small graveside service for Mother. That was all she wanted. One day, I will buried alongside my parents at Magnolia Cemetery. There is one spot left in the family plot, and it is reserved for me. Maybe, put a James Bond DVD from the Sean Connery days in my casket. Thanks, Mother.
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
Reunion
In 2001, my 30th high school reunion was coming up. I really don't like reunions much. I prefer to think of people as they were instead of how they are now. That may come from my time with Kare in Ft. Worth. If you don't know who she is, go back several stories and see the one on her. Anyway, Kare was very adamant about living in the now, which is why she didn't like pictures taken of her, because she didn't want to preserve the "now". But now, I had a co-worker who dared me to go to my reunion. She was the mother of one of my classmates. I accepted the dare.
I asked another co-worker if she would go with me to the reunion. We had been out a few times already, so it was natural for her to say yes. The reunion was at the Spring Valley Country Club. I guess there were about 100 of my classmates there. Some had died before now, and others had moved away, so that number was pretty good out of a class size of around 550. We actually had 601 in our senior class, but not all of them graduated.
When we got there, we found that some of these people brought their wives and a few brought dates, but most of them came alone. Maybe it was the cost of the tickets. I don't know. We had a DJ from one of the local radio stations, and I gave him a copy of The Cobbwebs cd that had just been released. There were many cliques in high school. Those cliques carried over into the reunion. I tried to hang with the old gang from our Forensics group, but they weren't real interested in including me in their conversation. I found a couple of friends sitting by themselves, so we went over and sat with them. They seemed happy to seem me. But, what was really strange was some reactions I got from a few others. There were girls (I call them girls because they were that age when we were in high school) who were hugging me. These were the same popular girls who didn't want to have anything to do with me, when we were in school. I was very confused. Why now? Had they seen my work in the movies, TV or stage? Had they read my published writings? Were they familiar with my music? Or, were they glad to see I was still alive after all the bullying I endured in school? Whatever the reason, I was glad to be noticed. Just 30 years too late.
We stayed until after they took the group picture, and then we left. I ran into an old friend who had become a respiratory doctor in Charleston. After talking to him for a couple of minutes, he remarked that I sounded like I had breathing issues. He was so right. I have been haunted by them ever since.
A few months later, I got an email from one of the guys who was there at the reunion. He had been one of the main bullies who made my life a living hell from junior high into high school. He said he had seen me at the reunion but didn't come over to speak to me, because he was too ashamed for what he had done to me all those years ago. He just wanted to apologize for all the pain and suffering that he had caused me. I accepted his apology, and now we have become friends. It is never too late to make amends. My 50th reunion is coming up in a couple of years. I may have to be dared to go to that one too.
I asked another co-worker if she would go with me to the reunion. We had been out a few times already, so it was natural for her to say yes. The reunion was at the Spring Valley Country Club. I guess there were about 100 of my classmates there. Some had died before now, and others had moved away, so that number was pretty good out of a class size of around 550. We actually had 601 in our senior class, but not all of them graduated.
When we got there, we found that some of these people brought their wives and a few brought dates, but most of them came alone. Maybe it was the cost of the tickets. I don't know. We had a DJ from one of the local radio stations, and I gave him a copy of The Cobbwebs cd that had just been released. There were many cliques in high school. Those cliques carried over into the reunion. I tried to hang with the old gang from our Forensics group, but they weren't real interested in including me in their conversation. I found a couple of friends sitting by themselves, so we went over and sat with them. They seemed happy to seem me. But, what was really strange was some reactions I got from a few others. There were girls (I call them girls because they were that age when we were in high school) who were hugging me. These were the same popular girls who didn't want to have anything to do with me, when we were in school. I was very confused. Why now? Had they seen my work in the movies, TV or stage? Had they read my published writings? Were they familiar with my music? Or, were they glad to see I was still alive after all the bullying I endured in school? Whatever the reason, I was glad to be noticed. Just 30 years too late.
We stayed until after they took the group picture, and then we left. I ran into an old friend who had become a respiratory doctor in Charleston. After talking to him for a couple of minutes, he remarked that I sounded like I had breathing issues. He was so right. I have been haunted by them ever since.
A few months later, I got an email from one of the guys who was there at the reunion. He had been one of the main bullies who made my life a living hell from junior high into high school. He said he had seen me at the reunion but didn't come over to speak to me, because he was too ashamed for what he had done to me all those years ago. He just wanted to apologize for all the pain and suffering that he had caused me. I accepted his apology, and now we have become friends. It is never too late to make amends. My 50th reunion is coming up in a couple of years. I may have to be dared to go to that one too.
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
6th Time
The one department that I had worked in retail the most was Luggage. When Macy's took over Rich's, they did away with the Lamp Department. I had turned that dept. into the number one Lamp Dept. in all of Rich's. With Lamps gone, I was moved to be the sales associate in Luggage.
At the time, Luggage was located in a small corner of the store near the break room. This is where it was when I worked there the first time at Rich's. It was in an area near the manager's office, so he/she saw me every day. You just couldn't hide out from the bigwigs. As I started selling Luggage at Macy's, I achieved some success. The sales reps already knew me from my previous work in Luggage, and they knew that I knew something about the product. My supervisors weren't very pleased that I knew more than they did, but it worked out well with the higher ups. I started making sales so much that the store awarded me with new fixtures for the department. I started selling so much Luggage that eventually the store saw that I needed more floor space to expand the selection, so they moved the department to an area twice the size as where I had been. It was actually in the same area as Lamps had been. I was named "The Luggage King of Columbia."
There were other Luggage stores in Columbia, and I would refer customers to them, as long as they would also refer customers to me. That relationship worked out well. I immersed myself in how bags were made and which ones would tear up faster than others. Most companies would offer "lifetime warranties" on the bags. It wasn't your lifetime. It was the lifetime of the bag. Hardside lifetimes were around 15-20 years. Softside bags ranged from 2-7 years. And one cool thing was that if a customer wanted to use the warranty, they would have to ship it back to the manufacturer themselves, and most people didn't want to do that. Of course, Macy's policy was that they would take back anything. I didn't adhere to that policy much.
My sales techniques were very successful. The first thing I would ask a customer was were they flying or driving. If they said "flying", then I would move them to the more expensive bags. If they said "driving", then they could pick any bag including those that were very cheaply made. If a customer was flying but didn't want to pay top dollar for a bag, I would tell them the story that happened to me in Frankfurt, Germany.
I was getting my suitcase off of the carousel at the airport, but my clothes came out before my bag did. I told them that I had to get a belt and tie it around my bag, because the locks had broken. It was a true story, but it made the customers think that they didn't want my experience to happen to them. They would then buy the more expensive bag. There was something else that I had to tell the customers, and that was that I had some ethics. I was always truthful with the customers, and I would tell them that if their bag broke coming off of the carousel, the first one they would be mad at would be the airline for breaking the bag. The second one would be me for selling the bag to them. I just would rather not have to deal with that guilt. Consequently, I had very few returns. My bosses would be mad at me, because I wouldn't sell the cheap luggage which was advertised.
I also got spiffs from manufacturers for the bags I would sell in a particular brand. Sometimes, I would have customers come in, and I would try and get them to buy Samsonite, because I was getting a spiff for every bag I sold from them. The next week, a customer might come back, and I would suggest Delsey instead. They would ask why I was suggesting one over another, and I would have to make up a reason. I couldn't tell them that I was getting a better spiff from one company over another. The spiff was like a commission, and it helped out a lot with my take-home pay.
I would go to meetings in Atlanta having to do with Luggage, and I got a lot of freebies from shirts to umbrellas to accessories to bags. At one time, I had more bags than I knew what to do with. I gave a lot of that stuff away to charities.
I worked in Luggage for Macy's for about 5 years. Right before I left, my sales were so good that the Macy's Columbia store was in the top 5 in Luggage Departments for the South Region of Macy's stores, and in the top ten of all Macy's stores in the company. I was selling close to a million dollars a year in product. After I left, Luggage sort of dried up. But for me, the 6th time selling Luggage was the charm.
Friday, August 9, 2019
No Brakes
I had gone to see my Mother at Martha Franks in Laurens one Sunday afternoon. I tried to get up there every week to 10 days. As I got in my car to head home, I noticed that I didn't have much brake pressure. I continued on down the road and found all of the pressure had gone. I had no brakes.
Normally, I would drive home on the "old road", because I hate interstates. And besides, I like the scenery. But on this day, I realized that I needed to go on the interstate, because all of the town in between Laurens and Columbia had stop lights. I could get into an accident. So, off I went on I-26 with no brakes.
The good news was that I could take a steady speed. The bad news was that I didn't have enough gas to get home. I decided to drive as if it was snowing. I slowed into turns like I would with ice on the road. It was the summertime when this happened. Some drivers honked their horns at me, but I just yelled back that I didn't have any brakes. I started looking for a gas station off of the interstate and found one at the Newberry exit. I slowed to a crawl on the ramp and eased into the gas station. I opened the door and dragged my foot for it to stop. I felt like Fred Flintstone. Someone told me later that if I had shifted into neutral that the car would have been easier to stop. I filled up and eased out and onto the interstate again.
As I got closer to Columbia, I knew I had to get to a repair shop that was open on Sundays. I decided on Pep Boys on Decker near Columbia Mall. That meant that I had to get on I-20 before getting to Columbia. The exit is a long curving one, so I slowed to another crawl to take the curve. More cars honked at me, but I had no brakes. Some drivers saluted me with one finger. I waved back. I was fortunate that this was a Sunday afternoon, and traffic was light.
I got up to the Two Notch exit and slowed to the traffic light at the end of the ramp. No cars were coming, so I turned right onto Two Notch. I got up to the Decker Road turn that I had to take to the left. The light was green, so I proceeded on to Pep Boys. In order to get into their parking lot, I had to go down a hill. I was just creeping along and got to a parking space. I went in and told them what had happened that afternoon. They were amazed I was still alive. I had learned how to drive in ice and snow, when I lived in Fort Worth, so those memories helped me get back home. They fixed the leak in the break line, and all was well. It was a scary day, and I had to go to the bathroom big time, when I got home.
Normally, I would drive home on the "old road", because I hate interstates. And besides, I like the scenery. But on this day, I realized that I needed to go on the interstate, because all of the town in between Laurens and Columbia had stop lights. I could get into an accident. So, off I went on I-26 with no brakes.
The good news was that I could take a steady speed. The bad news was that I didn't have enough gas to get home. I decided to drive as if it was snowing. I slowed into turns like I would with ice on the road. It was the summertime when this happened. Some drivers honked their horns at me, but I just yelled back that I didn't have any brakes. I started looking for a gas station off of the interstate and found one at the Newberry exit. I slowed to a crawl on the ramp and eased into the gas station. I opened the door and dragged my foot for it to stop. I felt like Fred Flintstone. Someone told me later that if I had shifted into neutral that the car would have been easier to stop. I filled up and eased out and onto the interstate again.
As I got closer to Columbia, I knew I had to get to a repair shop that was open on Sundays. I decided on Pep Boys on Decker near Columbia Mall. That meant that I had to get on I-20 before getting to Columbia. The exit is a long curving one, so I slowed to another crawl to take the curve. More cars honked at me, but I had no brakes. Some drivers saluted me with one finger. I waved back. I was fortunate that this was a Sunday afternoon, and traffic was light.
I got up to the Two Notch exit and slowed to the traffic light at the end of the ramp. No cars were coming, so I turned right onto Two Notch. I got up to the Decker Road turn that I had to take to the left. The light was green, so I proceeded on to Pep Boys. In order to get into their parking lot, I had to go down a hill. I was just creeping along and got to a parking space. I went in and told them what had happened that afternoon. They were amazed I was still alive. I had learned how to drive in ice and snow, when I lived in Fort Worth, so those memories helped me get back home. They fixed the leak in the break line, and all was well. It was a scary day, and I had to go to the bathroom big time, when I got home.
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