December 8, 2013
Raw, scraped knuckles are a
direct result from an hour long freeway drive with seven hundred other
vehicles, dodging snow flakes, skidding over ice patches on the off ramps,
listening to my heavy breath since I am too nervous to have the radio on,
praying I get to my appointment on time. Slide from one lane, avoiding the 20
mph brake lights only to be tailed by people in an OJ chase scene reenactment.
The onslaught of real winter weather sets me in panic mode. I hesitate to go
out at the slightest threat of snow, despite my tree-climbing-capable vehicle.
I have never used four wheel drive in my life and I don’t intend to start now.
They cracked the wine bottle
at 10:00 this morning so I was already behind upon arrival. I declined the
bottle and requested coffee with cream (yes, milk is fine but, skim? I shudder
and pour a splash in my cup, discouraged by the horrible taste and add white
sugar, to make it even more despicable. The food consists of cut cheese, Ritz
crackers, a bowl of dog chow (crispy Chex cereal sprinkled with powdered
chocolate milk, I believe) salami and ham slices and canned pineapple. I was
feeling sorry I didn’t eat before I left the house. Stabbed a few squares of
cheddar and threw in a coupla crackers to appease the crowd. It is going to be
a long day. I add more white stuff to my coffee for good measure.
A couple of knuckleheads
follow behind me, just off the trailer hitch. Little do they know I nailed one
car on that baby in my driving career. The passenger must have made some noise
because after I raised my arms in surrender, he backed-off a tad. He could not
get around me on the single lane highway so he must have been ranting and
raving for some time, before swinging into a turn after weeks of hugging my
bumper. The sweat trickled off my brow and I meandered down another route only
to find yet another guy in a big hurry. I let out a sigh that no one seemed to
hear.
Passed the Co-Op in
frustration, realizing it is too late to stop and pick up real chocolate and/or
pizza, pretzels, chips and salsa, authentic cheese and such. Drat! The dog and cat
are surely waiting by the door, waiting to be served dinner or supper, depending
upon where you are from.
Love, your fair-weather driver
No comments:
Post a Comment