My spirit name: Rainfoot in Mouth.

This happened yesterday.

Rain, lots of rain, lashing down on the car whilst I was sitting at the lights waiting for the green left turn arrow.  The sky, miserable dark grey, like the inside of a wet sock lost in a dark corner.  We’re all cozy in our cars though, wearing clothes that lie at the back of the closet for 50 weeks a year, finally getting some use out of the fancy seat warmers.  We’re all in muggy little bubbles, not really looking forward to the moment we have to get out of the car and make a mad dash through the wet, cold stuff.

As much as I am enjoying the bubble time, I am also on my way to work and therefore have to be on time.  The light has been taking aaaages but look there it is, green arrow.  Right let’s go!  Er… car in front, yoohoo, you’ve got a green light.  Crap now it’s yellow, go quick!  Oh, and now it’s red.  Fuck’s sake, were you texting?

Well, we’ll just wait for aaaaages, again.  Thankfully I’m right behind the first car, so I will make the light, and I won’t be late for work.  Just sitting here waiting …and waiting …ever so patiently.. twiddling thumbs… making loud brrrr noises… and jus-OH IT’S GREEN!  Go go go!

Car in front , why are you still not moving?  Beep. Beep Beep. BEEEEEEEP  BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.  Ah bollocks, it’s red again.  What the hell are you texting that takes two cycle through the lights?  War and Peace, the unabridged version?

Here’s a thought, maybe the driver in front is not texting.  Maybe they’re passed out…. or dead.

Shit.

Right, hood up.  Get out of the car, leave the engine running – not a wise move but fortunately nothing came of it – ugh rain, big fat speeding bullets of cold water in my face.  Right what are we dealing with here?  Woman in the driver’s seat is completely still, eyes are … I can’t tell if they’re open or closed there’s too much rain on the window.  Bugger.  Tap, tap, tap.  “Hi!”  Aha!  Her head is looking at me. Make the universal roll down your window sign: rotating fist.

Window effortlessly slides down, Californians do love a Lexus.  ‘Hello?’  Curious, cautious, wondering if I am homeless or insane.

‘Hi!  Are you okay?  You’ve just sat through two green arrows in a row, is everything alright?’

“Oh.  Oh sorry.  I was listening to this song and it reminded me of my dad.”

Now, you can’t be pissy about something like that.  You can however have a superb foot-in-mouth moment.

‘Oh thank god!  I thought maybe you’d had a heart attack and died.’

Pause. 

“Well, thanks for checking on me.  Um.. sorry.”

Cool.  Cool. I’m going to get back in my car now. Byeeeeeee.”

 

 

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