Recently, my car went head to head, or should I say ass to head, with a large generator/ worklight and it lost. Badly.
I was wrapping up things in Georgetown from a night of eventful filming. Teamsters were hooking up various towable pieces of equipment and hauling them away. Somehow, there was one item left over and mine was the only ball hitch left in sight.
"It'll be fine," they assured me.
"Perfect fit. Your truck was designed to pull," they mumbled knowledgably.
"Of course you have a 2" ball, no one has a 1 7/8" anymore," they decreed with what would prove to be a considerable amount of erroneousness.
Luckily, I was still a couple hundred yards from entering the freeway when the appearently attention starved light unit jumped off the hitch and rushed forward for a little more intimate contact.
As I was picking the last of the privacy-tinted glass from my hair, I couldn't help but think that the company has sweet, sweet insurance and that I should never trust a Teamster who's trying to do less work.