Friday, June 13, 2008

Fairway Flashback

If you weren't reading my blog back in December, you should click through the links to get the back story on this. If you were reading here in December, you might want to click through again anyway just to refresh your memory.
This morning I was supposed to go to Fairway with my friend. I got up, got dressed, and waited... nothing. We had to move her car before the street cleaners came (the whole point is to go grocery shopping during street cleaning hours and be back in time for another parking space), so I called her. No answer. I left a message, waited a few more minutes, then called her other phone. Nothing. Waited a bit more. Walked to her apartment and knocked on the door a few times -while telling the dog in the apartment across the way to calm down and stop barking at me. No answer.

So I went back to my apartment, took off my hat, sunglasses, and bag, and was debating going back to bed when my cell phone rang. It was my friend. She'd overslept. Could I please get the car while she threw on some clothes. Sure. -Except now I couldn't find my keys. The keys I'd JUST used to get into the apartment? By the time I found my keys, which was not too long (they were in my bag), she was at my door with the keys to her car (we're in the same building.)

I walked to her car and the entire street was empty -except for her car. I could already tell by the looks of every single person who walked past and stared at her windshield, that there was a bright orange parking ticket waiting there. Luckily, she'd been spared the neon green sticker.

Everyone stared as I approached the car, took the ticket off the windshield, opened the door, and got in. Not just the passersby but an entire line of teachers and school children who were waiting right next to it for instructions or a head count or "something" before they could proceed to wherever it was they were going. I was very tempted to tell every single person in line that "This is not my car. It's not my car. This car? It's not mine. Even though I'm getting in it and I have the keys and it looks like this is my car, it's not my car. I didn't get a $50 ticket for being 10 minutes late. I've been up for an hour!" -Like they'd care!?

My friend was ready about 10 minutes later, and we went to Fairway. They hadn't re-arranged it since the last time I wrote about it, so everything was still in the same place it was before. The cold room was still cold (awesome) and the tampons were still in the pasta section (???).

As we left the store I glanced towards the construction they're doing by the edge of the river. They're building a park with tables and benches and I think some kind of cafe. My friend told me I'm not allowed to look because I think it's a dumb idea. She thinks it's going to be beautiful and can't wait to sit by the water sipping cappuccinos. I think it's going to be beautiful and a great place to dump bodies.

When we got back, we found a parking space, and "Art" was there. Except now I can't remember his real name. I keep wanting to call him "Art," but that would be wrong. I almost mentioned this to my friend but decided not to. The last time I made fun of her she got a little insecure.
If you write about me on your blog, I'm going to log in and leave a comment that says "Your friend sounds highly intelligent. And very attractive."

And I will say "Yes, she is. And she's available."

Oh. Ok. You can write about me then.



Cammy said...

Let me know when it's ready for dumping bodies.

I shouldn't have said that. ;)

Melissa said...

You're alive! Good to see you :)

storyteller said...

I hate parking tickets ... and know just how you felt.
Hugs and blessings,