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I finish my work (and what I don’t finish, I’ll finish from home on Sunday). I run out to the parking lot. I approach my Honda but it doesn’t respond to my remote. What’s wrong? I get to the car and have to open the door with the key. UGH. I’ve left my lights on all day.
Run back to the building, but I’m on a contract, my key has limited access. I can’t get back into the building after 5h00 pm. I walk along the windows on the ground floor. Maybe somebody is still at their desk AND I’ll be lucky enough that they have booster cables.
No such luck. Everybody’s gone home. I feel like I have a huge neon L floating above my head. I walk back to my car, trying to figure out what to do. I don’t know where my head is lately. I’ve also forgotten my cell phone at home today. Or—put it in a cupboard or something—and couldn’t find it on the way out the door this morning.
Now–I can’t help myself. I’m laughing at my misfortunes and I find my right hand stuck in the shape of an L on my forehead. That three-dimensional L: Forefinger pointing upwards with the thumb perpendicular and the middle finger thrust forward so together they resemble an X-Y-Z axis. God, I’m such a loser sometimes.
A woman comes out the side door and walks towards a large white YUKON truck. Ah—I think. She has a truck. She must have booster cables.
Excuse me. Do you think you could give me a boost?
She looks a little unsure, but nods her head. Yeah. I have cables. I’ve never used them before though.
That’s OK. I sigh. I have. I have done this a lot. (Not recently mind you—but when I had my original Honda. They didn’t have the audible warnings on the base 1988 model and I was continually forgetting the lights). I was obviously so preoccupied this morning that I just tuned out the Ding! Ding! Ding! indicator that my lights were still on.
She retrieves the cables from a bag in the back of the truck. We decide it’s best if she pull facing my car. I pop my hood.
Just to be sure about the cables, I read the instructions. I figure you can’t go wrong with that. Except now– everybody has an opinion. A pickup pulls into the parking lot.
Do you need some help? They ask. Turns out to be friends of the lady in the YUKON. Just giving her a boost she says. But she’s leary about what to do. We determine she needs to pull closer to my car.
Together, we get my car started. I’m relieved—except—it’s now after 6h00 pm. I still have to find something to wear so I feel presentable and special enough and not frumpy. I speed down to Meryvn’s. I’d just been Christmas shopping the day before so I knew I could find something worthwhile and it wouldn’t take too long.
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