Guess what my Dad saw yesterday on the way home?
No, guess again. :)
Okay, so he’s driving up the rather steep hill towards his house when he sees a tow truck heading down the hill towing ——- tada! Much broohaha and fanfare to be had here ——– a BLUE EL CAMINO with a YELLOW FLAME paint job!!! If this has no meaning to you, please read the prior post and then you, too, may marvel at the utterly divine providence of his encounter with said vehicle in tow.
Meanwhile a woman sporting a mound of dreadlocks
He promptly turned around and proceeded to follow the tow truck for miles on down the road until he found himself pulling into a small apartment complex. He exited the vehicle with pen and paper in hand to record the license number of the El Camino. The truck driver walked back to ask if he needed help with anything to which my Dad replied, “Nope, just taking down the license number of the car that hit and ran my daughter last week.” Meanwhile a woman sporting a mound of dreadlocks (familiar, anyone?) had meandered up to the car, cell phone firmly adhered to her head. She asked, “What?” apparently having caught only the tail end of my Dad’s retort. He gladly repeated, “You hit my daughter last week and I’m here to take down your license number for the police.”
He turned and got back in his car, not awaiting a response, and left the woman standing there not fully comprehending the situation just yet. He said the wait at the light just down the hill from her place was the longest red light in the history of mankind. He was itching to leave the area pronto, as it was one of the seedier parts in town and besides, he didn’t want her following him, possibly in some other vehicle.
I’m thrilled that that woman’s come-uppance came full circle so quickly and was delivered so personally, no less. In a comparison of license numbers it turns out Bean was off by one digit, she recorded an “8” at the end instead of a “B”. I feel empowered knowing where to locate that woman – hooray for a taste of satisfaction!
Not the most comforting form of communication, I gotta tell you.
I answer the phone to hear Bean’s tearful voice on the line. Hackles go up, intense need to protect kicks in and the willingness to go above and beyond awakes as I await her words. She tells me that her passenger side car window has been smashed in, glass bits are strewn everywhere. Nothing stolen, though. She had gone to workout this morning and the car was fine, only to head down to the car again for work, where she discovered the window. Or lack there of. There’s rarely a soul around here come daytime, so suspects were few. Her theory is that the maintenance man mowing the nearby lawn kicked up a rock and shattered the glass and was afraid to say anything for fear of losing his job. I’m skeptical, but wasn’t there to get a feel for the situation as she did. We entertained mild paranoia in reasoning that it may’ve been the El Camino woman, but the matter of how the heck she’d know where we live quickly squelched that idea. I stayed on the phone looking up auto glass replacement deals online while Bean awaited our Dad’s arrival, wanting help in vacuuming up the glass. We’re so lucky to have a nearby and willing-to-help Dad! The only problem is, I could hear him arrive in the background by his yelling. If we’ve been hurt in any way, shape or form, he shows his care by yelling. Not the most comforting form of communication, I gotta tell you. I used to say he was very much like the dad from the Wonder Years. He realizes that it hardly makes sense to be angry, but he pretty much has the attitude that that’s the way he is so learn to deal. A boo and a hiss! Life is all about improving on what could use improving.
Total personal aside here: They say that women tend to marry a man like their father and that terrifies me. I have yet to date someone who has yelled at me, and that’s no accident. Excessive grouching, the birthplace of yelling, is second only to cockiness on the short list of biggest turn offs. If anyone yelled it was me. Entirely counterproductive (read: no fun) and has since been tamed with much work.
You know this little tangent is all because I watched You’ve Got Mail. Again. All that “finding the one person who fills your heart with joy,” all the writing, the verbal combativeness and witty banter segueing into vulnerability and friendship. And books. New York. Enchantment. Le sigh.
Finding that one person is certainly not in the top priorities, but I imagine it will be one day, and it’d be nice to know now that there’s someone out there capable of the intellectual stimulation, coupled with the assertiveness not to allow me to bulldoze them, yet with the confidence and respect to allow me to share differing thoughts and opinions without blowing a gasket. Among other things. Tall order. Quantity: 1
The car window will be fixed tomorrow. The El Camino woman has a hitch in her giddy up, thanks to the Dad and the law. All is nearly right in car news and karma. Hoping to keep it that way! ♦