Stop Touching Things

"Miss! you can't touch the artwork..."
"He means you, too, G-ma"
"Bahhhh"

Friday, May 8, 2009

The 5th most F'd Up 5 Minutes of My Life, or so..

Do you ever get that feeling that you've crossed that multidimensional rift into a strange reality which doesn't include things such as dark chocolate and humor blogs? It can happen in a split second and leave you feeling like you don't even know your name.

Last night, after working a busy day at the massage studio, I piled up my laundry, pulled on my hoodie, threw my laptop and purse over the same shoulder, and attempted to make my way out the door. As I was walking out, I noticed my phone lying on the desk, so I snatched it up and threw in the pocket of my sweatshirt, that's what I planned on doing anyway.

Sometimes in the gathering of things to carry out the door in one haul, (I do not do the industry credit with good habits in this measure. I am loathe to make more than one trip, even if it means threading my arms through a dozen grocery bags to make my way into the house) I remember I need to do something, but forget to do it.

I walk up the hill to where my car is parked and load everything in. I coast down the road in a slight different direction from the office and head home. It's one of the rolling hills next to the lake in this prairie land, and my office is in the middle of it, so I get to go up and down it in multiple directions. I grab my dinner, netflix, and head towards the recliner downstairs to watch Get Smart with my parents. Dave (the Prince of Howktown, and Top Feline), curls up in my lap and we enjoy the show. After the movie, I decide I'm going to call Doug. I walk up stairs, get nice and ready for mushy bf/gf conversation, and grab for my phone in my pocket.

Empty. huh. maybe I threw it my purse. I try to only put my phone and keys in certain places to avoid such disasters as losing something you should keep track of. Not there either. Okay, I'm going to call the phone from the landline... nothing. Check the car. Nope. The drive way? Uh ah. ::sigh:: I must of left it on the desk.

I jump in The Shark (official transportation of Howktown) and head over to the office and park on top of the hill on the other side of the street from where I was parked before. It's about ten after 10 and it's dark. The frogs are chirping by the lake at the bottom of the hill and an eerie yellow glow from the street lamp illuminates the grass... but no phone is to be found. I look around the area I was parked in before quickly before I decide to run down the hill and check the desk in the office. It won't take long, 2 minutes tops. I scan the sidewalk as I trot towards the door. Nope. Turn on the lights, glance at the desk... NO. What? I check my pocket and purse again, just to be thorough. Nothing. Well, I guess I'll have to wait until it is morning and it is light out. I try calling the phone again in case it is on the floor somewhere, of if someone found it they will answer it. I was even smart enough to leave myself a message, so that it will beep annoyingly until I find it or the battery dies.

Trudging back up the hill I look in the grass again and crawl on the ground to look underneath the car parked in my old spot. I walk over the other side of the street thinking maybe I really parked on that side of the street. I look up and notice the only thing on the other side of the street is that purple thing that was there earlier in the day. Huh. Well... wait.
The ONLY THING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET IS THAT PURPLE THING

"WHERE THE HECK IS MY CAR!?!?!?"

I feel as if I've crossed the line into another dimension. The dimension where I don't have a car and I have always been standing in the middle of the road at 10:12 PM listening to frogs creek and feeling the warm breeze blow my hair to the side. Maybe I didn't drive here I contemplate as I consider the reality of a new dimension. No.. that I know is not true. Maybe I parked on the other side of the street and the car I just crawled underneath is not a strangers, but my own. Slowly I turn and stare at the the Ford Taurus willinging it to turn into my Hyundai Tiberoun. "You are a black sports coupe. You are a black sports coupe."

As I turn to look at the empty space and purple thing in the road once again I see a street lamp down the hill, whose lamp is broken and hanging. The arm which once spread over the street casting light is dangling limp and dark. Underneath the post, half on the curb in the new spring grass is a car... my car... alone and vulnerable. I close my eyes and the beating of my heart proves to me that I am alive, and I am not having an out of body experience. I felt as if I awoke to a fatal car crash, but the crash should have been me, yet I'm standing in the middle of the road alive.

A needling of reality pokes itself into my brain "Did you set the parking brake?" Ummm. No. I did not. I was in such a hurry to find my phone that I neglected basic parking on the hill practices. My car was in first, but I did not turn the wheels toward the curb, nor did I pull the brake as I almost always do when I'm parking.

I step back down to earth knowing that all that happened was the car popped out of gear, the brake was off, and the wheels were turned out toward the middle of the street. In the 2 minutes that I ran down to the office. The Shark and Gravity had a battle, and Gravity won. It slowly rolled into the middle of the street and down the hill. It missed all the parked cars between where it started and the curb where it landed. With trepidation I walk toward the The Shark praying that it is not wrecked. I can practically see the steam rolling out of the radiator and the v shaped dent that is going to be there. My heart is in my throat as I look at the lamp post, asking the universe to not drop the handing arm from it's precarious position onto my beloved Tiberuon or myself.

I approach the curb and look without breathing... The shark is a good foot and half away from the lamppost. I did not hit it. My car is not wrecked. I do not owe the city thousands of dollars in damages. I have avoided disaster. I open the door, crawl into the seat, start the car and hope that I'm not stuck in the rain soaked grassy curb. Without trouble I back up and remove myself and the shark from the scene of multidimensional rifts.

I drive home. Enter the house. Walk down the stairs. Sit in the chair. Place my hand at my side and pick up the phone that had slipped out of my pocket whist watching a movie with my parents.

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