Star date 11022018
I have been awake since 0500. This is not an anomaly. I recall this being commonplace when I was preparing for my last gourd procedure. Today…a little different. Less apprehension and emotional crap. Perhaps it is due to the excitement of my bride flying in on Tuesday. …okay. It is absolutely because Carol is on the final countdown to another PITTSBURGH visit. As part of my morning, I did the normal getting ready stuff. Jeans. Slippers (flip flops as the white folks call them)…a shirt without a collar…as collared shirts are for the work week…which, thankfully, is not quite here. Headed to the Starbucks. Seems normal enough. Mind you, I like Starbucks well enough but prefer to support a local brand if possible. Not so possible in PA. So I park in my normal spot…yes…I have a normal spot. Away from others…not because my car is so precious I don’t want it dinged…alas, nay. College kids and DB’s have done more than their fair share of that. Rather, I like the extra steps on the step counter. No…not a Fitbit. I obliterated 4 of those in two years. I have a Fossil hybrid. Check it out. Looks like a good old fashioned watch. Two hands, numbers. Old school. Yet it tracks steps…and does not break in five minutes of use. Anyway…as I am parking I see a minivan next to my spot with the back hatch open and a few tire type tools on the ground. I peer over and see this:
Along with this…and I almost missed her because I thought she was a kid from the minivan and not the mother/driver….I get out of my car in to the rain…I am pre-caffeinitating for church. Now…I fancy myself a bit of an expert on the roadside tire change. I rather enjoy besting my previous times. Rain adds an element for all kinds of fun and knuckle-busting. I’m ready. Not this ready:
But close. I have never cared for time being so much of a concern that I can’t or won’t stop to help change a tire. Needless to say, yet, I am saying it, I do this a lot. Today would be no different. I see the lady and she is on the phone. I interrupt just long enough to ask if she would like help. She tells her girlfriend (yes, I can tell it is a female on the other end) to hold on for a minute. “No, I’m good.” I say okay and the next thing I hear is, “How do I get the plastic cover off to get to the spare?” This question was not directed at or toward me, so I ambulate toward my two shots of espresso…not expresso as some say. I am in the Starbucks approximately seven minutes. Yes, I did track this because one, I need to get to church to get my spot. B, I could have had the tired changed in seven minutes or less. For reals, yo. I walk out and the lady is still struggling with the plastic cover. I offer one last time. I get:
Quite emphatic. I smile and consider a follow up of, “are you sure?” Then I look up and see the license plate. Wait for it….this is the punchline: Ontario ….not the bad part of Los Angeles, CA for One of the best and sloppiest fast food burgers lives:
Nope. The Canada version. Where folks are not quite as friendly and apparently cannot accept assistance from an uh-mer-can. I’m telling you. Under seven minutes. This lady could have had coffee and made it to her Pilates or sweaty yoga class or whatever it is Canadiens do…..eh. It baffles me that some folk…men or women…cannot or will not accept help. I am bothered by their stupid. Alas, chivalry has not died within me, I did my best and I was shrugged off like a band geek asking out the popular girl. Which…is just a point of reference, as I am neither and was never a band geek…….or a popular girl.
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