Thursday, January 26, 2006

the importance of clean underwear

one day, i will learn to shut my big mouth.

in high school, i vividly recall having a conversation about stitches and broken bones on the bus on the way to a wrestling meet. i was the only one who'd experienced neither.

less than six hours later, as i ran down a flight of stairs, i skipped a few, tripped on a couple more, and wound up bleeding profusely from my mouth and eyebrow.

13 stitches and a shattered tooth later (we're talking dangling by the nerve here, people), i decided to keep my mouth shut when it came to things i'd never done before.

after today, i know not to mention those negative sort of "only once" incidents, either.

a good friend and i met up for lunch yesterday before our sexual harassment meeting at work. (post to follow- i'm still practicing my "elevator eyes") during lunch, i happened to mention i'd been unable to figure out how to work my hazard lights until a couple of months ago, when i used them while parked in a loading zone. (for those of you following along at home, that makes once.)

make that twice

"but, duff," you ask, "is that your car parked on the wrong side of the road?"

yes, dear. yes it is. you see, when one's making a turn, and one's steering abilities as well as the vehicle's willingness to move in a forward-type motion call it quits mid-arc, one may possibly find themselves in the left lane.*

"duff," you inquire, "are your flashers on?"

correct again there, darlin'. when one's car winds up stalled in an unintended location, it is customary to flip the switch and let others know that you are not a bad driver with poor parking skills, but that your temperamental car is, in fact, the problem. (i've always been a big fan of the "when in doubt, blame the inanimate object" line of thinking.)

being the non-religious sort, it takes something major to drag me into a church- someone else's marriage or funeral, or...uh...well, that's about it- and this event qualified, mostly because it was a case of either knock on their door or else the door of the house my car wound up sort of unintentionally parked in front of....and who knows what sort of folks live there. i mean, the neighborhood seems nice enough, but it's be just my luck to wind up in front of some meth lab or crack house or something. (let's face it- my day was already going really well, so it didn't seem unreasonable to fear getting shot for knocking on the wrong door and asking to use the phone.

so anyway, into the church i went. i made sure to finish my various impolite exclamations before reaching the building, just because i figured letting a string of expletives out inside the building would probably lessen my chances of being able to use the phone in this pace of worship. (i suppose the threat of lightening on an otherwise clear day would probably be a concern of some folks, too.)i made three four calls- my boss (to explain why i was running late as well as beg for a ride to work), my mechanic (to make sure he'd be able to tend to my car asap), triple a (thank goodness i upped my coverage this year), and, when all else was said and done, to SO (so he'd know of my plight and feel compelled to cheer me up with tacos later.)

my day by the numbers:

pairs of clean underwear i left the house with: 1
pairs that would have remained clean had i wound up in front of oncoming traffic: 0
avon deliveries i was going to make: 5 groups
number made: 1 (because she came and picked it up)
number of unsuccessful attempts to reach my mechanic: 3
successful attempts: 1 (finally!)
number of miles my car can be towed for free with my super-deluxe triple a membership: 100
number of miles between my car's initial location and the mechanic's shop: 26

number of times the car started for me after the stall: 0
number of times it started for the tow truck driver: 0
number of times the car "started right up" for my mechanic: 2
number of times the tow truck driver called me "sweetheart": 5
"honey": 3
"darlin'": 4
some other term of affection: at least 6
number of tacos bought by my sympathetic SO: 0
number of artichokes bought at the grocery store instead: 4

*british readers, of course, are excluded, as you folks think it's silly for us to drive on the wrong side of the road anyway.


mr_g said...

Artichokes instead of tacos? I'd protest!

Labbie said...

Hmmm... What if you had not been wearing underwear?