It works just fine

I bought a twelve foot by seven foot flatbed trailer from a neighbor last weekend. He told me it was working just fine. I believed him. I knew the lights worked on it last year because I went hunting with him and the trailer. A lot can happen to a trailer sitting outside all winter though.

"It works just fine," is a copyrighted phrase held dear by people who have yard sales, used car salesmen, and middle-age men on their eighth marriages.

All I wanted to do was haul off a load of branches from my yard. I loaded up the trailer with pine boughs until it was full and hitched it to my van at noon. I didn't know I would be troubleshooting trailer lights until dark.

It turned out I had multiple problems. They started in the wire harness on my van. Two wires were broken there. The connections on the trailer plug had some corrosion so I changed those, and I found three burned out running lights on the flatbed. Trips to three different auto parts stores to find the right bulbs, and two Cherry Slurpees later, I fixed the problems and turned on the lights. They all lit up and I did a little victory dance on the dark street. I was overly proud of my electrical prowess. My victory dance took me around the trailer as I inspected each light, chanting, "I'm the man... I'm the man."

Then I turned on the blinkers. All the lights started flashing under the pine boughs like a wacky trailer shaped Christmas tree. I kicked the tire and murmured under my breath something about the similarities between my trailer and human feces.

Half an hour later of Internet research I learned a few things to check. I cleaned the ground wires connecting the trailer frame to the frame of my van and said a little prayer asking for forgiveness for comparing my new trailer to something I wanted to flush. I hit the blinker and at eleven o'clock on a Saturday night, I fist pumped the air. All the functions were working properly.

Now I can say, "It works just fine."