Did you ever have one of those days that begins beautifully, only to end in utter upset? Tuesday was one of those days. I’m glad they don’t happen very often.

On Monday, at Dave’s insistence, I’d had my first go at piloting Felix in the now defunct K-Mart shopping center parking lot. It wasn’t nearly as frightening or intimidating as I imagined it might be thanks to the YouTube videos I’d watched. The worst part was making right-hand turns. Felix is 40 feet long and I didn’t want to take out a stop sign or a fire hydrant by accident. But with no vehicles to avoid or audience to watch, the lesson went well. I even drove it all the way home on the parkway which really surprised Dave. He was impressed. I was relieved.

He’d made an 8:30 a.m. appointment for Tuesday at Camping World in Bowling Green to have a brake controller installed. Since our car has all-wheel drive it has to be towed behind Felix on a trailer. The purpose of the brake controller is to slow down the trailer when the brakes on the motor home are applied. Without it, the trailer and the car–with a combined weight of more than 5,000 pounds–are uncontrollable and a potentially dangerous projectile.

Camping World is about 65 miles from Hopkinsville with most of it on scenic Hwy. 68 and only the last few miles on the interstate, so it’s a relatively easy drive. No irate drivers honked at me, I didn’t cut any turns too short, and we arrived with ten minutes to spare.

The install took much longer than expected due to unforeseen issues with Felix’s wiring. Finally at 4 o’clock, the tech came into the waiting room and announced that the installation was complete. She’d worked on it all day and was grimy and exhausted. Even so, she volunteered to bring Felix around to the front of the store and we accepted. It had been a long day and we were anxious to get on the road and head home.

Shortly afterwards we saw her race into the manager’s office, her face as white as a sheet. We knew something must have gone wrong. After waiting for what seemed forever they came back and judging by the looks on their faces–hers sullen, his incensed–we braced ourselves.

Our hearts sank upon hearing the news that she had hit a concrete pole backing out of the bay.

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Granted, at 16 years old, Felix was not completely flawless but she was brand new to us and besides, she was in pristine condition. Whatever elation I’d felt that morning was blotted out by the calamity that had just occurred. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Neither Dave nor I have bad tempers, but we were angry and resentful nevertheless. We didn’t create a scene, but our body language transmitted our feelings clearly. The tech apologized profusely and the manager assured us that their insurance would make it right. Initially that didn’t help matters, but eventually we simmered down.

Felix was bandaged up and we were finally able to leave. Not much was said on the drive home except to voice the disbelief that someone there didn’t think to have a spotter at the rear of the motor home to guide it out of the bay. Besides being safer, it seems like common sense. I bet they’ll have one in the future.

I couldn’t help but realize what a difference being in recovery made in my reaction to this incident, both immediate and subsequent. Not once did I consider drinking over this (like I’m sure I would’ve in the past) but I honestly thought of drowning my sorrows with about three or four chocolate cake donuts and a tall glass of milk, which I thought was pretty funny.

More importantly, I know this was an accident and there’s no point in harboring a resentment. The truth is that Felix will eventually get fixed and that week-long ordeal will no doubt give me more fodder to write about. Looking at the bright side of situations such as this is not just better, it’s healthier. And like Dave said, the silver lining is that at least it wasn’t our fault!