True Story: When you wake up in the morning, you just never know how a day will turn out.
I woke up this particular Monday morning a little tired, but ready to tackle the day. I had a ton of real estate work to get to, I was feeling good about it, ready to scratch off my to-do list and make some money.
G Monkey was with his Daddy so I could have slept in, I repeat COULD have, but my internal alarm clock will not allow such a luxury.
True Side Story: I don’t wake up well. Usually takes a good 6 hours or so before I feel like talking to anybody.
And lately, I don’t stay up well. After bartending much of my adult life, living the life of a night owl, I traded that in for Mommy duty… So now I am like an old farmer, I rise with the sun, and go down at dark with the help of a few glasses of wine. So, really only contact me around lunch time, that’s about when I feel like talking… But then of course, I’m eating, which is the most important time of my day… So I guess I’ll talk to you… Let me get back to you on that.
I don’t know if I have mentioned this before, but I currently drive a 1995 Toyota Corolla with a tape deck, and covered in bumper stickers. It’s embarrassing really, but you have to express yourself.
I also suffer from a little bit of OCD. My car doesn’t have one of those fancy “beep beeps” of the last 2 decades where you can open/lock your car from the outside. I have to manually push the lock button.
So, although I don’t need to lock my car at 9am in Orange Beach, AL to go into the gas station for a minute, I still do. because I’m crazeeee.
So this particular Monday morning I decide to stop for a fountain diet coke on my way into the office.
True Side Story: I had decided it was too much pressure to try to keep beer, wine, milk, juice and diet coke in the fridge at all times. So I cut out the diet coke. Now I stop in the morning to buy 1 for the price of half a 12 pack.
Sucking down my coke (diet coke, but in the South all sodas are coke).
Me: You want a coke?
Me: What kind?
You: Mountain Dew.
So on my way back to my car sucking down my coke (diet coke) I see my keys glistening in the sun hanging from the ignition. I quickly dart my eyes to all four doors. Locked. Locked. Locked. Locked.
I have my wallet in my hand. I’m brilliant. Yes! I always carry a spare key in my wallet. I pull the key out and stick it in the door. Nothing… It’s to another car that Ex-Pump drives currently.
I immediately think of my phone… Which is resting on the passenger seat of my locked car.
I go inside the store and start asking people whether they can get into a locked 1995 Toyota.
Then, I gather myself and ask the cashier to borrow her phone. With the look she gave me you would have thought I had asked her for her first born…
I take the greasy phone in my hand and start dialing… Who am I going to call? I know no one’s phone number.
I don’t know if you have suffered from this trauma in the last 10 years, but if you try to call someone from a land line now you are screwed! We don’t know telephone numbers anymore. EVERYONE is programmed.
I call Ex-Pump… We argue for a minute. I try the Police. They don’t do these types of things anymore. Getting the phone book from the cashier was like I asked her for her 2nd born to boot.
I am trying to avoid a ridiculous ($65) lock smith. I spend some time with an old milk delivery man. He gets out the ol’ coat hanger. This has to work right? It’s a 1995 Toyota. He and I spend about 30 minutes sweating to no avail.
True Side Story: This is the most annoying thing during this whole ordeal, my sweat. It’s the end of November why am I sweating???
I have since recanted that statement, as I am currently freezing my ass off.
I finally decide to call the Ma’am, that’s my step mom. I know she is at the Art center, not too far away, and that is a public number that I can look up.
She comes to get me to take me home to get my spare.
We arrive back at the gas station, laughing at my predicament that I am soon to be out of. I pull out my gorgeous original key to this 14-year-old car out and put it in the lock…
That’s right, it broke off in the lock… Why you say??? Because it is 14 years old and I suffer from Murphy’s Law, of course it broke off in the lock.
She hangs with me for a while… 3 surfers try to break in the car for me. They ASSURE me that they have done this plenty of times…. No luck.
Eventually the Ma’am has to go back to work and I decide the inevitable… I have to call a locksmith.
I wait on my car for 45 more minutes. My work day is wasting away and the 60 something cashier is about to call the Police on me because obviously I am up to no good.
Eventually, my little locksmith shows up. This is when the fun begins… I expect him to just shove a slim Jim in the car and open it… No. He decides this is the time to try all of his friends inventions. He’s got wire with funky shaped rubber bands. He pulls out things that don’t look like in any way shape or form they could unlock a car door, all the while telling me about his love life.
I’m like dude, I’ve been here 2 hours, do I look like I care? meanwhile, I could tell you what color panties his ex-wife and 2 girlfriends wear…. FINALLY, he gets my door open. I write a ridiculous check and head off to the office.
I am so behind at work and trying to catch up. I run in the office, throw my purse down, start the computer and reach for my phone… I pull out my $500 Smartphone covered in ink, along with everything else in my purse. WTF?
I pull out 10 pens before I find the culprit. This is some bullshit right here.
Skip to 5:30pm. It seems like 7:30pm since the time change. I feel like I have a target on my back. I am negotiating with people on the phone and Ex-Pump beeps in… I’m thinking, good Lawd, what else?
I click over…
Ex-Pump: We got into Sundance.
Me: What? Eff U! Don’t mess with me right now. You don’t know the day I have had.
Ex-Pump: No really, I’m serious… We got into Sundance.
True Story: You never know how a day will turn out… Sometimes at the end of the day, your dreams come true.