At 6 pm I got the call that my truck is ready to roll. Yes, I'm still in Fargo. We loaded up the rental with stuff, my computer, television and some luggage, and off we go to the garage to load up, attach the trailer and get moving again. I paid the couple grand to get it out the door and I'm driving behind dad to return the rental car when I notice I have really lousy brakes. Really lousy. The dashboard lights are lit telling me that the parking brake is engaged. I don't feel any drag but I pull the release and, nope, nothing is engaged. While I'm following dad I call back to the garage to ask what's the scoop.
The fella that answers the phone is not the manager, nor is it the technician. But, he does seem to know about my truck because he says, "Well, you don't have any rear brakes." WHAT?!
"I did when I came in. What do you know?"
"Your rear brakes aren't connected."
"And you guys let me take the truck knowing I'm towing a trailer?"
"I'll have Mike call you back. He's with a customer right now."
"Yeah, that'd be good. I'll be coming back with this. Ask him to please stay open."
Mike did not call me back. I did call him. No, they can't do a thing until tomorrow morning.
Welcome to Fargo. Another night in the hotel, another day of rental car. The walleye is good at the grill in the mall. I didn't come for the walleye.