Calamity Suzy Rides Again…
…or not, as the case may be.
I’ve taken the accident-prone talent to a whole new level. Now I don’t even have to be awake. Yesterday, I actually woke up with a scratch on my face from an errant feather in my pillow. I’m beginning to think the birds heard that I was considering getting rid of them and acted first. While examining the scratch in the bathroom mirror, to the triumphant cawing and shrieking of the flock of conspirators outside, I discovered a whole flock of zits inside. They are a less than charming counterpoint to the scratch. Now I look almost as immature as I am.
While talking on the phone and stepping outside, managed to hit my still-wounded knee against the aluminum doorframe, re-wounding it. Note to self: don’t talk while walking. Or walk while talking.
Not that driving is much better, in my case. Faithful readers may recall my automobile adventures just three months ago. Apparently, I learned nothing from that episode, since I managed to lock my keys in the car yet again.
Bad news: As usual, I did not have my cell phone, because I was using a very tiny, but very cute handbag (patterned with Marilyn Monroe magazine covers) that could barely hold my wallet.
Good news: There was a payphone! So I called the towing company.
Bad news: “That’ll be an hour, ma’am”. Also, $60 worth of stupid.
Good news: I was at Walgreens, so I bought a bunch of trashy tabloids and caught up on my Bradifer, Charles’n’Camilla, and Wacko Jacko news. They even had a bench outside. And unlike the last time I locked my keys in the car, it was 70° outside.
Bad news: It took an hour and a half for Rescue Guy to appear, pleading traffic.
It took him about two seconds to get the car door open. It just goes to show how quickly someone could steal your car. He wisely wouldn’t leave until I had actually started the car, and when I thanked him, he said, “That’s all right, sweetheart.” I love how everyone calls you “sweetheart” and “hon” here.
Good thing I’m flying home.