This Day Must Hold Something Good

It has to because it has already had all the trouble that I want before 7:30. On my way to the chiropractor to realign my neck, which has been thrown off by stress, the gentle whoosh of rubber to pavement turned to a ka-womp ka-womp. Flat tire! I know that sound well from living on gravel roads and driving fast.

I turn into the gas station and get out to look. Yes, flat tire…. flat in much Donald Trump’s hair isn’t. I think about calling my pastor or the deacon of the church to see if they happen to be in town because I am in DKNY and stretch cotton. But it’s 6:45 and I can change a tire. I go into the gas station to ask for a cardboard box to sit on and there is a man behind the counter! I’m saved!! But when I ask for a box and explain why I need it, the hand-flapping and “OMG-ing” starts. I’d almost swear he shrunk about 12 sizes from fear. I am not saved, but he’s earned a place in my blog. Where is a man in his 50’s when you need one? They always change your tire. They don’t even ask if you want them to, they just do it.

My beer box and I return to the scene of the trauma and proceed to operate on my wounded car. And oh! the lugnuts! The turny thing won’t turn them. I want to cry. I sit down and I feel the hot tears prickling behind my eyes, but an Indian guy comes by on a bike and loosens them for me. I hope that he will stay and finish the job, but he is on his own way to work, so I am grateful for the help he does give. A turning of the lugs, a lugging of the tires, and a tiring of my muscles and I’m done. Not a broken nail or a smudge of dirt on my clothes!

But I’m hungry now and thirsty. I don’t think the yogurt in my purse is going to suffice for breakfast. Gas station food is not really food, but sometimes they put things like sausage and cheese on bagels and heat them up warm. These I like and these they have. And they have Arizona tea and lemonade mixed in a 99 cent can! Ummy!! I can even overlook Arnold Palmer on the can. Yes, he’s there in all his club swinging glory. I learn from the can that he loved tea and lemonade so much that the drink became known as the Arnold Palmer. It couldn’t have been Vin Deisel? No, I don’t suppose it could have…. None of it could have…..