Monday, January 28, 2013

What a Wonderful World

So, on my way to do my good deeds, I got all emotional thinking of my brave little friend Queenie with the huge personality taking care of her son and husband, each over two hundred pounds and over six feet tall, when she herself should have been in bed. I was rushing to the post office between grocery shopping for her and making the delivery to her house, to get king cakes in the Saturday mail to my granddaughter and daughter in Atlanta. I got there just as the post office locked it's doors, but that was the least of my worries.

I had packages in my hands, so I stuck my credit card in my pocket to avoid having to carry a purse. As is my habit, I turned off the engine and dropped the keys into said purse while extracting my credit card from my wallet. You know that sinking feeling you have just as you hear the car door shut and you realize you've locked yourself out. Per my reasonable husband's suggestion, I carry a spare my wallet, which was in my purse... in my van.

Not to worry, we have Triple A insurance. Oh, but wait, my cell phone was also in my purse, locked in my van. Even if I could find a pay phone, I had no quarters because they would also be in my wallet, in my purse, which was locked in my van. Oh dear, what to do?

Across from the post office is a wonderful little breakfast and lunch place that we frequent on Sacred Sundays. I asked at the desk if I could use their phone. With no hesitation, the darling little gal at the desk handed me the house phone. Realizing that I had no phone number for Triple A, I asked for a phone book. It was rather amusing, the look she gave me, as if I was asking for a dinosaur burger. After a bit of fumbling, she produced a local directory.

I reached Triple A, but they could find no record of our membership on their computer. I, of course, didn't have our membership number because the card was in my wallet, in my purse, in my van, which was locked. The dear roadside service lady on the phone empathized and went so far as to call Tennessee Triple A to see if they had a record of our membership. Lord love a duck, they had never heard of us. Twenty minutes into this, on the restaurant's business line, I was still stuck.

After assurances from Triple A that we could be reimbursed if they had declined us by mistake, I called Pop-A-Lock. As I sat on the restaurant front porch waiting to be rescued, two waitresses came out to commiserate with me in my misery. One confessed that she had done the same thing just days before, but that, thanks to her daddy, she and her sister had Triple A insurance. She remembered that Triple A had given her a coupon for a discount on Pop-a-Lock, which she ran to her car and retrieved and gave to me.

The young man from Pop-a-Lock was covered in body art, probably to cover his freckles, with one of those half inch plastic rings in his ear. We discussed his piercing as he retrieved his equipment from his trunk. In the trunk, was also a baby stroller which led to discussion of his eighteen month old and thirty-five day old children. He was so pleasant that I felt compelled to give him a ten dollar tip, as a baby present. What a wonderful world we live in when we all realize that we're all in this together.

This morning Richard and I ate at Sunrise on Second simply to have the opportunity to thank the staff for their random acts of kindness.

1 comment:

  1. Somethings are just wonderful, no matter if they come from person mistakes. Glad all turned out well. Life is good!