Yesterday we both took showers and Left Brain forgot his towel. When he threatened to streak to the car (I was too busy sitting in his reclining lawn chair playing scrabble to fetch it for him) I thought...whoa, that's a possible story. So - another attempt at a short story. This is totally fictional...I'm not a complete idiot, I still have work to do to achieve that status.
Picture it - a little canned ham parked in an adult only (not X-rated, you just have to be over 55) RV park in Florida.....
It was a foggy morning – not outside… just inside my head. No amount of caffeine was helping to clear it. Maybe some nice refined white sugar – yeah, that will do the trick I thought as I grabbed the last sweet roll.
I like my breakfast rolls warm, so I popped it into the microwave and punched in my PIN number for a cash withdrawal. Oh, this is going to be a LONG day!
Maybe I need to take a shower and get some clean undies… it’s been a while. That will snap me out of my fog. So, while the microwave tried to figure out what my bank balance was I went into the shoilet to take a shower.
With my eyes full of soap I reached for a washcloth…what the… I had forgotten to remove the toilet paper. Oh well, it might work. Nope. Now I have little blobs of wet toilet paper all over my face. After removing this mess I managed to wash and rinse my hair. I did not do the repeat cycle – it just seemed to risky.
Dang…I had forgotten to bring in a bath towel, but luckily Left Brain left his within reach on his upper bunk. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, so I snatched it up and dried myself off. Oh yeah, clean clothes. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
The microwave dinged. I had heated my breakfast roll to the tune of about a $50 withdrawal, so I tossed that into the trash and took my receipt. This is the oddest morning I’ve ever had.
Clothes. The thought penetrated through my fog long enough to realize I had no clean clothes to put on. This is the problem with storing your clothes in the back of the van due to lack of space in our hamlet. It requires some advance directive and that’s just not the way I roll.
Hmmm. What to do? The van isn’t that far way and I could wrap the towel around me and dash out and grab clothes and be back inside the canned ham before anyone even notices me. I’ll be quiet and stealthy. Yeah, that’s the ticket!
I did hesitate for just a second as some of the fog lifted and I pondered whether or not this was a good idea. But the fog hadn’t lifted that far yet. I rationalized that the beach towel covered me better than most swimsuits on the beach and this was a retirement community and their vision probably isn’t all that good and I proceeded with my plan.
First step involved opening the hatch back with the remote – I love that feature and it’s largely why I chose this vehicle. Well! That’s not working too well. The hatch isn’t opening at all. What the ……
I put the TV remove back down and picked up my key fob. It’s this weird looking thing that doesn’t actually have a key – it’s a black fob with lots of buttons and you insert the whole thing into the ignition switch. Odd thing.
I punched in a button and the left rear door opened. Nope, wrong one. Tried it again and the right rear door opened. Nope. Making lots of noise now as the doors ping to warn people standing nearby that they are about to open. Oh yeah – the one here that you need to punch twice to open the back hatch.
The car beeped twice and started up. I had hit the remote start. Darn it. Now I have to get into the driver’s seat and insert the fob so I could turn the car off. Darn it darn it darn it darn it!
I secured my bath towel around my ample girth and slipped into my thongs. No, no,no…. not the underwear… the shoes. Eeeeewh! I streaked out the door and jumped into the car. After inserting the fob and turning off the engine I closed the side doors and found the correct button to open the back hatch.
I could see that my clothes bin was where it should be (a minor miracle) and the lid was off. Oh, clean undies are so close! All I needed to do now was jump out of the driver’s side door, go to the back, scoop up some clothes and get back into the house without being seen. I waved back to the nice couple walking their little black poodle and tried to act like nothing was unusual about sitting in ones car in a beach towel. I mean this IS Florida.
Okay….they’re around the corner. The coast is clear. I jumped out of the van and slammed the door shut. Then my thongs slid on the dewy sand (mud actually) and I went down. I went down alone. The towel stayed firmly lodged in the door. To say I had never felt so stupid was an understatement….and I have had lots of experience with this feeling.
I scrambled to my feet and began a losing battle of tug of war with the towel. Forget the clean clothes – I just needed to get back into the canned ham.
I almost knocked Left Brain over as I burst through the door. He started to ask why the TV was on a Spanish station and then really noticed me. “Oh honey, you’re a mess – you should take a shower”.
I started to explain what had happened, and we heard sirens. I asked him to wait so I could explain it to both he and the nice man in uniform at the same time. We’re going to get kicked out of the park for sure this time.
I pulled on my dirty clothes over my muddy body since I really prefer not being handcuffed in the nude. I do have my limits as to what’s acceptable, low as they are.
Left Brain just shook his head at me and sighed. He’s learned over the years not to even ask questions.
Then I noticed that the squad car pulled up into the trailer across the street and was followed quickly by an EMT vehicle. It appears the man across the street had been watching birds with his binoculars and had a mild heart attack.
He kept muttering something about seeing a Blue Footed Boobie as they took him away and they kept explaining that that species didn’t exist in Florida. I’m thinking he was trying to say “bare footed boobies” but was still in shock when his binoculars swiveled to me as he heard all the commotion.
I feel a little responsible for what happened but sometimes it’s best not to say anything. At least we didn’t get kicked out of the park…yet.
Now. I think I’ll go get some clean clothes from the van and go take a shower. Let’s see….where’s my towel?
Long Live the Queen of Tales
I love your stories. That poor darling old gent across the way. I'm thinking that it was a compliment that you excited him so. (It could be, couldn't it?)
ReplyDeleteYou really must put all your stories into a little book. Your talent as a storyteller is awesome. And with pictures of some of your dolls sprinkled throughout the stories, Wow! What a neat book!!! (You would need to make a Left Brain doll, a She Devil doll, etc.) Oh boy, just thinking about it makes me smile.
Now I need to hop on over to the next post. You have a great day. Hugs, Edna B.
I agree with Edna. Add your unique photography to that book too.
ReplyDeleteI would appreciate an autographed copy.
I can never quite tell with you which part is fiction... :)
ReplyDeleteMichelle