After yesterday’s chaos at the dealership over the service appointment for the car (I’ll tell you about it some other time…), I had yet another episode of the Shopping Blues.
So the minivan, Rusty, was severely short of gasoline. So much so, that the yellow “Reserve” light shone steadily and bright in mine eye.
Last night, I was persuaded to wait till this morning to fill up the tank.
Today, is also the day the Polish lady whose sister is in Tokyo as Hammer Throw Coach for Poland’s women team is in for her fortnightly ransack…uh.. cleaning of the house.
I was told to run out, fill gas, get some cash and come back.
Accordingly, I picked up the keys to Rusty, my sunglasses, because ever since the surgery, the ultra-bright sun of Canada hurts my eyes, my phone, my reading glasses and sallied forth.
Rusty seemed reluctant. The cold engine seemed to hesitate. As I took my usual longer way to the gas station, to avoid the multiple left turns, turns I detest, Rusty coughed and spluttered on the last fumes. I drove carefully past the useless sidewalk construction on the Parkway and sighed in relief as I stopped at the first pump in the gas station.
It was then that I realized an important omission.
I had no wallet.
I did have my phone and texted She Who the one word “SHIT” in all capitals. The phone rang immediately.
“I forgot to carry my wallet!”
Crisis brings cold vision.
The immediate response was “Ok, walk towards Bell Harbour Park. I’ll meet you halfway.”
I put the phone down, carefully moved Rusty to a vacant parking slot at the back of the gas station, put on my mask and walked into the gas station store. The older gentleman in front of me had to be coached by the attendant in the correct way to use his credit card. This took a few minutes.
I told the attendant that I had run out of gas and forgotten my wallet so had parked the car over to the side while I walked home to get my wallet. She said it was ok.
I then started walking. Back to the uselessly expanded sidewalk on the Parkway. Up ahead, I could see the lights at the street where a left turn would lead me to Bell Harbour Park and a tryst with my wallet.
I saw a gate at my left and instinctively turned to open it and walk through. I walked down the street towards Bell Harbour Drive when my phone rang.
“Where the hell are you? Are you walking down Thomas? I don’t see you?”
“I’m 20 seconds from Bell Harbour! Wait, I’m going to turn right in 5 steps”
It actually took 8 steps to turn right.
“Ok, I’m on Bell Harbour. I can see you now”.
Indeed, She was walking towards me.
We walked back to the gas station, where we filled up Rusty the Minivan. Drove to the bank and drove home.
Another day in the daily battle against normalcy.