It’s about the time you see Interstate 65 through your positively-not-shut van hatch that you realize the plan is crazy.
Ill thought out.
Poorly conceived.
It’s the disturbing mix of imagination and the whoosh of passing traffic that confirms it all though.
I have a thing about Craigslist, I’m a little addicted, the rush of the negotiation, the high of the find. Sure, I could end up with a stalking psychopath who eventually kills me, but I could also get a chromed out toaster. Really, it could go either way. I try to keep it local but I almost always end up browsing the “view local results” which, might I point out are not local and should be listed as “potential road trip results”.
So, we’re at the phase (bakery building wise) where I can start Craigslist-ing for cool appliances I mean very important pieces of machinery with which to run our very professional bakery. So last weeks search was for a shower stall with a pan that can serve as a “mop sink” or a regular shower. Those run retail for between $300 & $600.
But whatever, I found a 6.5′ x 4.5′ x 4′ shower, with everything attached, for only $150.
$150 bucks. Clams. Smakers. Dollaaaaas. Green Backs.
Dad, who I usually enlist for my Craiglist adventures, was busy. Anderson (brother-in-law) my back up bodyguard, I mean armed escort, I mean treasure hunter (well, that’s emasculation at it’s finest) was tied up.
Turns out the only available buddy was Cherbug. The 10 year old. Awesome right? We took the swagger wagon because the Man insisted the shower would fit, he took out all the back seats except one because he was certain the shower would fit. We loaded our snacks, filled out water bottles and set out like pirates to find the loot.
I love a good road trip as much as the next guy. But I also love sight seeing. Turns out you can’t do both. We had to turn around. A lot. We drove about two hours and ended up in a shady-ish looking neighborhood- in the middle of nowhere, Fearless Cherish riding shotgun and mentally rewriting her will in her head.
When we finally found the house, which turned out to be not so shady, they were in the middle of a surprise birthday party. Awkward, right? “Oh happy birthday! I’m just gonna grab this shower over here… is that cake?!” Meanwhile your co pilot, your cohort, your back up… she locks the van doors! With you on the outside!
The real awkward part? It didn’t even kinda fit all the way in the van. We got a solid 2/3’s of it in and the man was like, nope, not gonna happen. He was tall. And looked Swedish. He used some rope and tied what looked like a legit knot, but I’m no boyscout. I’m a skeptic. An optimistic skeptic. That translates into “That looks shady and we’re probably gonna die, but maybe not.”
The first ten minutes of interstate were the worst. So bad we stopped for stress sundaes and hash browns. Because this is America and evidently you can have both of those things at the same time, no more waiting till the morning for heart attack inducing deliciousness. Win.
After a 3 hour ride home, (because you have to drive slow when there’s a 1/3 of a shower stall hanging out your swagger wagon) we made it. The Bakers Daughter(s) will live to Craigslist another day.
Everyone doing their part, even Baby-girl.
Three compartment sink, another Craig’s list find!
It’s a slow process, mainly because the Man has to work during the day to keep food on the table, but we’re getting there.
Meanwhile the Baker is knocking herself out. Last weekend’s weddings:
Naked Cake and Fire Truck Cake
Until next time, stay calm and eat cake,
The Bakers Daughter
Written by Olivia Brodock, author of No More Wasted Years, devoted daughter, sarcastic sister, crazy aunt, master chef and marketing consultant.
