Roller Coaster Of Luck
I had this feeling, on Wednesday, Scud was going to surprise me at my place, when I came home from work, with dinner. I’d been having a weird week, and he gave me some clues.
So I called him on my way home from work Wednesday night, to see if I would tell where he was.
“What’re you doing?”
“Nothing.” (I could hear him cooking.
“Where are you?”
“In.. my… chair?”
Okay.
Because I’m a complete asshole, when he asked what I was doing, I replied, “Oh, I thought I’d run some errands, go to the grocery store…” just to make him sweat. And then I almost didn’t, but I remembered I was out of wine so I did.
When I was getting out of my car, I noticed my backpack was soaking wet on one side – I’d stuck a travel coffee mug inside, that still had some coffee in it. AGAIN. Put my keys in my backpack, checked to make sure my wallet was in my purse, took it out of the backpack, tossed the backpack on the seat, and locked and closed the car doors, leaving my keys, in the backpack, locked in the car.
Fortunately, Matt is my spare key guy, so I called him.
Yeah, he’s at my place, using the house key I gave him to get in. Yeah, he has my other car key. But NO, it’s in Boca.
Yeah, he has AAA. He calls.
I go inside, because I figure I might as well get some groceries, right? Besides, I’m really starting to need that bottle of wine.
Matt calls me back – AAA can be there within two hours. We decide it’ll be faster to just run up to Boca and back, so he stops cooking and comes to get me.
Now, I’ve ruined dinner. Damn it. With me, karma’s punishment is always swift and harsh.
Matt and I are standing stupidly by my car, doing that thing where you peer inside the windows, hoping to see I have no idea what, and he’s checking all the doors ONE MORE TIME, when his cell phone rings.
It’s AAA - they’re less than a minute away.
Five minutes later, I was inside my car, keys in hand.
Ten minutes later, I was munching on Matty-made pepper steak.
Twenty minutes later, I had a little wine buzz and a full stomach.
At least it turned out okay in the end.
P.S. While in the store, I picked up some Wild Blueberry Wheat Beer, primarily because there was a cute “Sea Dog,” on the bottles. What the fuck was I thinking? I blame CarKey-induced insanity, because this stuff tastes exactly like someone took a Bud Light, poured it over a big bowl of Boo Berry, let it marinate for an hour, then strained and bottled it. It’s so bad I can’t stop drinking it, because I keep convincing myself, over and over, it’s not as bad as I remember. I keep being WRONG.