In ages past, when I worked for an auto-parts store, we had a sale on motor oil. Problem: The warehouse didn't send our store any of the oil that was on sale. Go to the store in (other region) and get more, they said. My AM was not about to; her late-1970s Nissan pickup, she claimed, was not equal to the task of moving that much weight (I called BS; she clearly just didn't want to go). I'll go get it, I told her, in my 1968 Ford Falcon 2-door sedan. Cue MUCH laughter. Nonetheless, I told them I could do it.
Imagine the astonishment when I arrived back at the home store with thirty, count 'em, THIRTY full cases stuffed into that little Falcon. Nope, didn't take 'em out of the box, either. Went back the next day and got 30 more.
I won't claim it was 'effortless'. That little car was NOT built for such shenanigans, and certainly not with 130,000 miles on the clock. But, although that Falcon didn't have a lot of power, it did have a lot of heart.
Imagine the astonishment when I arrived back at the home store with thirty, count 'em, THIRTY full cases stuffed into that little Falcon. Nope, didn't take 'em out of the box, either. Went back the next day and got 30 more.
I won't claim it was 'effortless'. That little car was NOT built for such shenanigans, and certainly not with 130,000 miles on the clock. But, although that Falcon didn't have a lot of power, it did have a lot of heart.
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