During our last spring snowstorm, I stepped out of my husband’s pick up truck onto on a sheet of ice and slid under the car parked next to me.
Since I could feel my legs going out from under me, I had time to grip the edge of the door and, as they say, go with the flow. As slides go it was a Perfect Ten; Smooth, effortless - dare I say it, graceful.
I landed with most of my body under a Honda. Since I could still see the sky, I deduced that only my head was sticking out. I giggled to myself that if I had tried to get most of my body under a dirty car parked 9″ away from my own on purpose, I couldn’t have done it. Still, it had all happened so fast that I took a moment to take inventory. No breaks, no cuts, no sprains. So far so good.
This is where it gets ugly. I had parked at Petsmart. Those of you who shop there likely know that it’s a busy place with people coming and going at a steady rate. Though I wasn’t hurt, I was anxious to get out from under the car without getting noticed. It was awkward, you know?
I hadn’t been lying there but a few seconds before an attractive urban couple returning to their BMW noticed the head sticking out from under a car. We made eye contact. I smiled weakly. They kept on walking, though a little further away from me than was necessary. Yes, it was evident. The head under the car had a horrible disease that was CONTAGIOUS by EYE CONTACT! It was humiliating. I felt sure they owned spiders.
A family and their dog heading back to their car noticed me next, but only because their dog bolted out to the end of his flexleash and started sniffing my head. Irritated that the youngster had lost control of her dog, mom yanked both child and dog back to within the family pack, but only after scowling at me. A head sticking out from under a car was as normal as street traffic.
I was beginning to wonder when the owner of the car would return when I saw a pair of Sorrel boots standing at the driver’s side. Oh. My. Gaud. I had the sudden realization that whomever had approached the car from the other side was going to get in it, start the engine and back out over me like I was a speed bump.
“Hello??? Hello? Please don’t start your car,” I called politely. Though I couldn’t see him, I could tell by the boots pointing every which way that the owner was looking for “The Voice.” I bet he even looked up thinking The Almighty was calling. This was taking too long and I was growing alarmed. “Look under the car!” I yelled.
I suppose the last thing we expect to see when we look under our cars is another pair of eyes looking back. And like a Rorschach Test, I suspect that the first thing we’d say to those eyes means something. Call me silly, but “Are you okay?” is what I would have said. Maybe even, “Why are you under my car?” But NOT, “Is my car dripping oil? Yes, it’s true. I drove all the way to Petsmart to go under a stranger’s dirty, magnesium chloride-caked car to check his oil. “Why yes!” I wanted to cry out enthusiastically, “You also need new motor mounts and your cholesterol is dangerously high.” Instead, I brushed off a line I’d been waiting to use for years. “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”
By now a small crowd had assembled around a man talking to his snow tires - and more amazingly, they were talking back! The disappointment was palpable when I inched my way out from under the car, and it was evident that it was only me.
I wish I could tell you that my stone-faced neighbors who seemingly witness everything odd that happens to me at home had been there. I think they would have enjoyed thinking that there were no lengths to which I wouldn’t go for attention. But the notion of dying in a Petsmart parking lot held some irony for me. Me, the person who buys gourmet kibble, Red Barn Bully Sticks and designer biscuits. If I have to go before my time, I’d rather it be on a beach with an adult beverage, or nestled among my loved ones.
But if I HAD become a ghost at the Petsmart parking lot, things I would have done when I was dead would have included a haunting of Sister Theresa Joseph, my sadistic 7th grade teacher; getting a full explanation from God as to why I couldn’t be born with Heidi Klum’s face (and that explanation better not include “What, with THAT body?”), and find out once and for all just WHO was on the grassy knoll?.
Carolyn Smith says:
July 9th, 2008 at 3:53 pm
This is hilarious. It really appealed to my sense of humour. Have you read any of the books by Denis Longden? Same sort of humour, very funny and it’s so helpful these days to have a good laugh. Thank you!
Carolynn Wamsley says:
August 5th, 2008 at 6:53 am
That was hysterical… thanks for sharing.