So I nipped over to Home Despot to price up the rental of one Jackhammer, Inconvenient Concrete For The Breaking Up With.
The guy on duty at the rental counter was very helpful, and concured with me entirely that only the largest jackhammer would suffice for the task at hand. My reasoning ran along the lines of "if a thing is worth doing, it is worth overdoing". I think the tool rental droid's thinking was predicated by the fact that he didn't have any small jackhammers available for rent. No matter, our wills coincided and that was what was important.
The jackhammer was mounted on a handy-dandy two-wheel sack truck not unlike those upon which crates of beer are delivered to beer-intensive places. I took this for a good omen, but it also indicated a certain problem involving mass and size. The whole thing would never fit in my car.
The tool rental guy said it was no problem, and that he would be happy to help me load it, missing the point by about the mean distance between Earth and Pluto1. I was not loading that hunk of filthy, sharp metal into my beautiful automobile. It would, rather, have to be loaded into the traveling landfill that Mrs Stevie helms from place to place.
I considered how best to broach the novel idea of Mrs Stevie emptying her car of the two and a half persons weight in rubbish she feels necessary to the road experience, which converts her Taurus estate car2 into a one seater and discourages people asking her for lifts. I would find a way. The jackhammer had to be mine at any cost.
"Okay, I'm sold" I said. "How much?"
"Seventy dollars for four hours" he replied.
When I came to, I had a sudden clarity of thought.
A new plan was needed.