I've never denied that I was a flake...
...and as much as I'd like to, I can't blame my flakiness on age. I'm sure that my advancing years haven't made me any LESS flaky, but I have been referred to as a "flake" since the 70's. I don't mind, it could be much worse, I could be Lindsay Lohan. Recently I had an experience which not only proved me to be a flake, but a blind flake as well.
I had a doctor's appointment at one of those offices that is well known for making patients wait for ridiculously long periods of time, once in the big waiting room, then again in the small waiting room that doubles as an examination room and then finally, after my visit with the doctor, in a waiting line where one waits to make another waiting appointment.
Since a long wait is a given, I had my friend drop me off instead of making her waste her day waiting with me. When my waiting appointment was over, I was giddy with happiness as I called my buddy and told her that my wait was over and that she could finally come and take me home.
After waiting for my ride in the big waiting room, I decided to go outside and wait for her in the parking lot.
At this point I should mention that last week, I had occasion to tell my friend's little girl what the term, "Shotgun!" meant when shouted while entering a vehicle. She is a wee munchkin and had never heard that term used that way before.
So, when I saw the SUV approaching with a dark haired little girl in the shotgun seat, I ran to the door shouting, "Shotgun! Shotgun! Shotgun!' As the SUV inched closer to me, I went toward the door to open it and was pleased to see that the door was unlocked. As I put my hand on the door latch, I looked at the little girl who was glaring back at me. I noticed something odd. It wasn't a flash of knowledge, it was more of a slow realization that the little girl was not the little Asian lady I was expecting, it was a young Hispanic lady who I had never seen before in my life.
At that point I realized that I had run after the wrong vehicle shouting, "Shotgun!" over and over again.. I quickly took my hand off of the door leading to some one's precious daughter and apologized profusely through the closed car windows.
I walked away from the vehicle with my hand covering my embarrassed face. I didn't know whether to laugh or hide from the police whom I assumed would be surrounding me momentarily. Eventually, I found a spot against the side of the doc's office to wait, out of the wind and out of sight of the poor woman and the child whom I had just freaked out intensely.
I watched carefully the intersection from which I expected my friend to come. It was amazing how every other vehicle was a blue-green SUV like the one for which I was waiting and the one that I had just assaulted. My buddy chose to take a different route this time so I never saw her coming, suddenly I just noticed an SUV that looked like hers (but hey, so did the first one!). The people in that vehicle were waving at me but so had the people who were in the first SUV.
I walked nonchalantly toward the vehicle without shouting out names of huge and deadly weapons. Luckily, that vehicle contained my friend and her daughter so I climbed in and began to tell my buddy and her daughter my tale of woe. As we were driving out of the parking lot, I noticed that the original mother/daughter team STILL hadn't ventured out of their own vehicle, probably afraid of the crazy woman who chased them shouting "Shotgun!" and trying to enter their vehicle as those she owned it. My guess is that the mom had dialed 911 and was awaiting the Elgin Illinois Police Department.
My apologies to the lady and the little girl, I won't ever do that again...of that I am sure. And now that I think of it, even if I DO know that I'm approaching the right vehicle, I'll never run to the door shouting "Shotgun!", "38 Special!", or Cyanide in a syringe!".
You'd think that I would have learned that lesson before THIS long!!!
...and as much as I'd like to, I can't blame my flakiness on age. I'm sure that my advancing years haven't made me any LESS flaky, but I have been referred to as a "flake" since the 70's. I don't mind, it could be much worse, I could be Lindsay Lohan. Recently I had an experience which not only proved me to be a flake, but a blind flake as well.
I had a doctor's appointment at one of those offices that is well known for making patients wait for ridiculously long periods of time, once in the big waiting room, then again in the small waiting room that doubles as an examination room and then finally, after my visit with the doctor, in a waiting line where one waits to make another waiting appointment.
Since a long wait is a given, I had my friend drop me off instead of making her waste her day waiting with me. When my waiting appointment was over, I was giddy with happiness as I called my buddy and told her that my wait was over and that she could finally come and take me home.
After waiting for my ride in the big waiting room, I decided to go outside and wait for her in the parking lot.
At this point I should mention that last week, I had occasion to tell my friend's little girl what the term, "Shotgun!" meant when shouted while entering a vehicle. She is a wee munchkin and had never heard that term used that way before.
So, when I saw the SUV approaching with a dark haired little girl in the shotgun seat, I ran to the door shouting, "Shotgun! Shotgun! Shotgun!' As the SUV inched closer to me, I went toward the door to open it and was pleased to see that the door was unlocked. As I put my hand on the door latch, I looked at the little girl who was glaring back at me. I noticed something odd. It wasn't a flash of knowledge, it was more of a slow realization that the little girl was not the little Asian lady I was expecting, it was a young Hispanic lady who I had never seen before in my life.
At that point I realized that I had run after the wrong vehicle shouting, "Shotgun!" over and over again.. I quickly took my hand off of the door leading to some one's precious daughter and apologized profusely through the closed car windows.
I walked away from the vehicle with my hand covering my embarrassed face. I didn't know whether to laugh or hide from the police whom I assumed would be surrounding me momentarily. Eventually, I found a spot against the side of the doc's office to wait, out of the wind and out of sight of the poor woman and the child whom I had just freaked out intensely.
I watched carefully the intersection from which I expected my friend to come. It was amazing how every other vehicle was a blue-green SUV like the one for which I was waiting and the one that I had just assaulted. My buddy chose to take a different route this time so I never saw her coming, suddenly I just noticed an SUV that looked like hers (but hey, so did the first one!). The people in that vehicle were waving at me but so had the people who were in the first SUV.
I walked nonchalantly toward the vehicle without shouting out names of huge and deadly weapons. Luckily, that vehicle contained my friend and her daughter so I climbed in and began to tell my buddy and her daughter my tale of woe. As we were driving out of the parking lot, I noticed that the original mother/daughter team STILL hadn't ventured out of their own vehicle, probably afraid of the crazy woman who chased them shouting "Shotgun!" and trying to enter their vehicle as those she owned it. My guess is that the mom had dialed 911 and was awaiting the Elgin Illinois Police Department.
My apologies to the lady and the little girl, I won't ever do that again...of that I am sure. And now that I think of it, even if I DO know that I'm approaching the right vehicle, I'll never run to the door shouting "Shotgun!", "38 Special!", or Cyanide in a syringe!".
You'd think that I would have learned that lesson before THIS long!!!
posted by Meg Kelso | 8:10 AM
2 Comments:
haha, that reminded me of my Mother getting into a wrong car at the drive-in. We were sitting there wondering where she was going as she walked quickly by our car and watched in horror as she opened a car door interrupting a young couple. I'll never forget how far off the ground she jumped when she realized she had the wrong car.
LOLOL, oh, how I wished you had said your daughter instead of your mother. I think we've all approached the wrong car a few times, but the difference is, they are usually empty. I don't even know if those people spoke English, who knows what they thought!?
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