Inspiration? A simple question.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I was sitting at work one day when a colleague of mine asked "How do you book a pool car?"
The answer that came back across the room was "It's the same as booking a meeting room".
It crossed my mind that if you mixed the two things up that you'd have an interesting situation. So here is my take on an idea that came to me from a simple question.


THE MEETING
It was a warm mid morning, a November Thursday and five people from EIO, a medium corporate entity, were sitting in a small Toyota Corolla inside the organisations car park.
Grant sat in the driver’s seat. Next to him in the front passenger seat sat a colleague, Mike. Other colleagues sat in the back; Anna on the left passenger seat, Chris in the back right passenger seat and Andrea sat in the middle seat.
Leaning forward through the centre of the bucket seats, Chris asked “OK Grant. Where are we going to have this meeting you’ve called?”
“Here,” he replied with conviction.
“What do you mean here?” Chris asked. Mike gave off a frown and a puzzled look as if he’d misunderstood what Grant had said.
“Here in the car,” he said again with more reassurance.
“You mean we’re sitting here and meeting inside the car?” Mike asked. “When you said ‘lets meet in the car’ I assumed we were meeting in the car and you were taking us somewhere for the meeting.”
“Well there were no meeting rooms left so I booked a car instead. The cars were all free and I couldn’t think where else the five us could sit and talk,” Grant replied with some indignation.
Anna, who had suddenly zoned into the conversation hurriedly, asked “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere!” said Mike turning his head and shaking it in disbelief at the same time.
“This is crazy Grant. We’re going to sit in the car and have a meeting?” asked Chris again with a tone of disbelief.
“Is the meeting cancelled?” continued Anna.
“No,” replied Grant turning to Anna and then back to Mike, trying to address the two conversations at once. “I had no option Mike. So we can sit here arguing about whether it’s a bad idea or not and get nothing done, or we can forge ahead and have the meeting.
Mike raised his eyebrows and looked up thoughtfully allowing his bottom lip to protrude. “Well who’s chairing the meeting?” Mike began, “because if we’re going to have it, we should start now”.
“You should Mike. You’ve chaired the last three so you should continue,” Grant replied.
“Well I should sit in the driver’s seat then” Mike said using a tone of quiet indignation.
“Why?” Grant asked.
“Well the driver’s seat is the one who’s in charge of the car and I’m in charge of the meeting so I should sit in the front,” Mike replied.
“Yes, but I’ve booked the car so I am responsible for it so I have to be the driver,” Grant announced.
“But…..we’re not going anywhere,” said Anna still trying to understand the concept.
Andrea, who was also sitting in the back seat, looked at Anna.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“You don’t sit at the head of the table when you book a meeting room do you? Its not like you’re responsible for the table?” said Mike.
“Nowhere,” said Anna to Andrea. There were now two conversations overlapping in Grant’s ears
“It’s not a bad idea though,” Chris said. “Maybe we should consider that”.
“Who’s in charge of what?” asked Andrea.
Grant moved in his seat to turn and look at Chris.
“I agree,” he said. “Let’s minute that. I’ll move that we should consider that the person booking a meeting room should sit at the head of the table.”
Suddenly a muffled noise, like a voice inside a distant room had called out. Then came a soft knocking from the boot of the car and everyone fell silent.
“What’s that?” asked Andrea.
“That’s Byron,” replied Grant. “He’s in the boot…………..he’s taking minutes”.
"Hi Byron,” everyone called.
“Can we have the radio on?” asked Anna.
“No Anna,” said Mike with a frustrated tone. “This is a meeting not a road trip.”
Grant put his head out the window and turned it upwards so that he could be heard at the back of the car.
“Byron?” he called, pausing to listen. “Byron? We’re going to start now Byron. Did you get that last point?
“RMmmmphooo,” came the reply.
Grant put his head back in the window. “Mike would you like to second that motion?”
“I think we should discuss that another time, Mike said. “We’re here to talk about another issue at the moment so lets just focus on that shall we.”
“Fair enough Mike,” said Grant putting his head back out the window. “Byron?” Grant paused. “Byron?”
“Mmmpppphhhh?” replied the muffled Byron.
“We’re going to discuss that point another time,” Grant shouted.
“Rmmmpho!” replied Byron.
“Can I have the air conditioner on?” Andrea asked. “It’s so hot in here.”
Grant fidgeted with his trousers and leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs and wriggling.
“Sorry Andrea I can’t,” he said. “I’ve got the keys in my pocket. I’d have to take my seatbelt off and get out to get them again.”
“Why have you got your seat belt on,” Mike asked. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“Mike,” said Grant with some conviction. “Need I remind you about the car booking procedure and policy? You know as well as I do that it clearly states that the driver of any EIO vehicle must put their seat-belt on before starting the car”.
“But……………… you weren’t going to start the car………..were you?” asked Andrea.
“No Andrea,” Grant snapped. “I wasn’t. And that’s why they are in my pocket and why you can’t have the air conditioner on.”
“If we were in a meeting room we’d be able to put the air conditioner on,” said Chris.
Everyone agreed and ‘yessed’ and called out ‘that’s right’.
“Look!” shouted Grant, clutching the steering wheel with his hands. “I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s the best I could do at short notice and I know it’s not quite the same as a meeting room, but lets focus shall we people!”
There was silence for about thirty seconds.
“Could we at least roll the windows in the back down?” Andrea asked. “Right!” Grant shouted. With that he released his seat belt and opened the door and stood up out of the car and retrieved the car keys from his pocket. He returned to the car and turned the ignition on so that the air conditioner would work. In the boot, Byron started to knock and call out. “Hmmmmph? Hmmmmph?” he called.
Grant revved the motor. “It’s alright Byron, we’re just getting the air conditioner working” he shouted above the noise of the car engine.
Suddenly the windscreen wipers moved across the front windscreen making the screeching sound of dry rubber on dry glass. Startled, Grant tried to turn them off, however he only managed to make them go faster.
“How do these stupid things work,” he muttered.
“Turn them the other way,” called Chris from the back seat.
“I don’t think that air conditioner is working,” said Andrea. “It’s still hot in here”.
“Not that way,” called Chris. “Try turning them back towards you.”
Grant fiddled with the lever but still the wind screen wipers screeched.
“Mmmmpphhh??? Mmmmmmmmmmphh!!!???”
“Shut up Byron!” yelled Grant as he tried to get the wipers to stop.
“Let me have a go” said Mike leaning across from his seat. Mike lifted himself up to try and reach across the steering wheel and banged his eye against the rear view mirror. He let out a loud ‘ouch’.
“Mmmmmphhhhh!!!!!!! Mmmmmmmmmmmmphhhhhhh!!!!!!!” called Byron.
“Byron! Shut up. You’re only supposed to take Minutes. The meeting hasn’t started yet” called Grant, angrily pulling at the levers on the steering column. Suddenly the car’s lights came on and the wipers continued to screech. Mike was rocking back and forth in the front seat with his hand clutching at his eye.
"Mmmmmmmpphhhh!!” called Byron again.
“For God’s sake, you’d better let Byron out of the boot,” Anna called.
Grant leant down to grab the lever which released the lock on the boot. Suddenly his seat surged forward and he became pinned between the steering wheel and the seat which had reached the pinnacle of its forward position. His head had become lodged in the steering wheel and his chin pressed down on the car horn which sounded off every time he struggled to release himself.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmppphhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” called Byron.
“That’s it,” said Chris. “I’m getting out of here,” and she reached to open the back door only to find that the child-safety locks were active and she and Anna on the other side of the car and Andrea in the middle and Mike in the front, were all locked in the car.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmphhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!” called Byron.
“I want to get out. Why can’t we get out?” Andrea said in a panic struck voice.
“Grant?” Anna called. “Can you reach the safety lock button?”
“Where is it?” Grant gasped his chest and face compressed into the same place.
“I don’t know?” Anna replied. “This is a company car. I have no idea”.
“Mike!” called Chris excitedly. “Open the glove box and get the manual out and check where the safety locks are. Mike fiddled at the glove box.
“I can’t,” Mike replied, tears streaming out of his right eye. “The glove box is locked. I’ll need the key out of the ignition to unlock it. Grant?” Mike continued.  “Reach down and take the keys out of the ignition and pass them to me,” Mike said.
Grant fumbled around feeling for the key and turned the ignition off. The windscreen wipers stopped and all was quiet except the sound of Grant gasping as he struggled with the key.
“It won’t come out” he said in a frustrated voice.
“What do you mean it won’t come out?” asked Andrea in an anxious voice.
“You have to put the steering wheel on lock” Mike said.
“I have to what?” Grant asked.
“Put the steering wheel on lock. Turn the wheel anti-clockwise until it locks and the key will come out”.
“I can’t,” Grant said exasperated. “My head is stuck in it. I can’t move!”
“You have to,” pleaded Anna. “Otherwise we’ll all be stuck in this bloody car”.
Grant manoeuvred his body, turning the wheel to the left. “Are you sure it’s anti-clockwise?”
"Yes!!!” they all screamed.
With that, Grant gave the wheel and his connected neck and head a mighty turn, bringing his buttocks up off the seat and hard against the driver’s side door and with a great groan the steering wheel snapped into its locked position.
A collective sigh came over the car and then for a moment, silence.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmpphhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” came a call from the boot.
“OK Grant,” Mike said in a calming voice. “Reach around and grab the key out of the ignition.
Grant fumbled. Everyone held their breath.
“Mmmmpphhhh???” called Byron.
"Shhhhhhhh!!!!!” came a group call from inside the car.
Grant continued to fumble.
“I can’t….” his breathing was heavy now…… “reach it”. Then he stopped and slumped. “I can’t reach it!” he called in resignation. “I can’t................... reach it!!!”
“What do you mean you can’t reach it,” protested Andrea.
“Try again Grant. I need to use the bathroom,” cried Anna.
Grant was sounding desperate now. “I can’t. I can’t. I’ve tried and I can’t get my hand around the steering column”.
“OK. Everybody stay calm,” Mike said in a voice that hinted of elevated anxiety. “Now Grant, I’m going to reach underneath you and try to find the key and pull it out”.
“Just take it easy Mike,” protested Grant who was not partial to being touched by other men. “You know I don’t like it when blokes touch other blokes.”
“It’s alright Grant,” Mike said reassuringly. “I’m just going to…..” and with that Mike lifted himself off his seat and stretched his arm underneath the steering column.
“Hey!” Grant called and flinched as Mike’s arm brushed against him. As he flinched, his left arm knocked Mike’s head down onto the gear stick, poking Mike in the other eye. Mike gave out an enormous cry and lurched back in his seat. Chris, who had been leaning over the back seat to try and see what was happening, was suddenly struck in the forehead by the back of Mike’s lurching head. In agony she lifted her head up, fell backwards, striking the crown of her head on the inside of the roof of the car. As she fell she stretched her arm out across the back seat, striking Andrea in the face with her clenched fist. Andrea’s chin lifted in reaction to the knock and the back of her head struck Anna’s nose who in turn screamed in pain.

Meanwhile, through frustration and anger Mike had lashed out, punching the dash board with his fist which in turn released the safety airbag, engulfing Mike’s face in a massive explosion of white.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmpppphhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” came the call from the boot of the car and with that, the car alarm sounded and car horn commenced to go off every
There they sat. Chris, clutching her forehead; Anna holding her nose; Andrea cradling her face; Mike hidden behind a giant white air bag, his hands over both tightly clenched and watering eyes and Grant with his head stuck in the steering wheel and his body wedged against the driver’s side door, each of them giving out their own calls of pain and anguish.
Suddenly, the driver’s door was flung open. There standing on the outside of the car was the group’s saviour, Lindsay the CEO’s assistant. “My God!” Lindsay exclaimed. “What is going on here?”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmpppphhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” called Bryon from the boot.

THREE HOURS LATER

Anna sat with a red nose and watery red eyes, looking like a girl who had been crying all morning. Chris sat with an ice-pack on the top of her head. Andrea had a swollen left cheek and occasionally gently touched her face as if to check that it hadn’t developed into a larger mound of painful flesh. Mike sat with one eye slightly closed and the other still running with tears. Every so often he dabbed a tissue against his eye to allow him a moment of water free site. Grant sat with his head leaning toward his left shoulder, grimacing from the stiff pain his neck was experiencing. A waiter delivered a tray filled with coffee and iced water. No one spoke until Grant said very sheepishly, “we probably should have had the meeting here”. Everyone silently nodded, glancing at each other in agreement and sipped at their coffee. Time went on and everyone was silent until Chris looked up and asked………………”Where’s Byron?”