Babysitters are hard to find, but on Wednesday night Joe and I finally have a real date, all by ourselves, while my friend Nancy takes care of Amanda. We have dinner at a little Italian café in Macintosh, and sit long over our wine. On the way home I say, “Shit. I forgot.” I forgot to pick up Amanda’s bike at school; she rides the bus to Girls’ Place after school so I bring her bike home each day. Joe takes me home, switches to my car, with the bike rack, and drives off.
After he leaves: Shit. I forgot the eggs. (Let’s save space and minimize vulgarity. click From now on it’s S.I.F.) I boil ten dozen eggs every Wednesday night for the Thursday HOME Van run. click Okay. I’ll buy the eggs tomorrow on my way to school, where I shelve books in the library, and boil them before going to HOME Van Central to make cheese sandwiches.
In the morning I look for my car key; Joe took it off the key ring to get the bike. I grab the car key and the key ring and head to the store, buy the eggs, and go on to the school.
At the school I stash my purse under the seat, grab my keys and lock the car, and go inside to do the shelving. But they’ve already started setting up next week’s Book Fair, so most of the shelves are inaccessible; all I can do are the biographies. Great. I finish the job and head to the car, glad that the time pressure is eased. I have to be at HOME Van Central by 10, and it takes about an hour to boil, chill, and pack up the eggs.
At the car I discover what you probably already knew. S.I.F., and locked the car key in the car. There it is on the console, laughing at me.
S.I.F. my phone. I could use the phone in the school office, but my Triple A card is in my wallet, in my purse, locked in the car. I’ll have to go home and use Joe’s.
It’s only about 3/4 of a mile to the house, so I have a nice walk in the cool early morning, thinking I’ll start the eggs cooking, call Triple A, then ride my bike back to the school and wait by my car for rescue.
S.I.F. The eggs are in the car. I’ll do the eggs in the afternoon, after I’m finished with sandwiches, and drive back to HOME Van Central by 3, when Bill and Mike pack the supper bags. Then I’ll have an hour and a half to kill downtown before the van run. I can go to the library and get San Francisco guidebooks; Amanda and I are going to California for spring break to visit my son and two nephews.
S.I.F. to charge my phone; it’s down to one bar. Joe wakes up and tells me there is a spare set of keys on the sideboard - I thought I had returned them to my neighbor Kate. (I borrowed them back from her the last time I locked myself out of the house.) I don't think my current car key is on that ring, but it’s worth a shot. Joe offers to drive me to the school, but I’m all set to go, and I figure the bike ride will unfrazzle my nerves.
At the school I try the key - no good. I call Triple A. Though I tell the dispatcher my phone may die at any minute, she is required to take me through all the questions.
I load my bike and Amanda’s bike onto the car, and sit on a rock to wait. It’s less than half an hour, and I get a good start on writing this post.
S.I.F. hasn't really ruined my day. True, I lost my leisurely afternoon, and I will probably get a letter from Triple A threatening to raise my rates if I make another service call. But I had a nice time at the library looking for guidebooks, and got a new novel by Bharati Mukerjee. Joe met me downtown for Mochi, the addictive self-serve frozen yoghurt. I had half an hour drinking an iced coffee and reading my new book at Maude’s (across the street from, and way better than, Starbucks.) And I found a topic for my blog. click
I AM VERY EXCITED SO I'M PUTTING IT ALL IN CAPS: READ MY FIRST PUBLISHED STORY AT CLICK HERE
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