Oh my goodness to I have a story. And in no way is it a surprise that it happened during two days of things going on. Friends and family in various hospitals waiting for tests-procedures-surgery, a co-worker in hospital for a test who didn’t come back to work afterwards because they kept him in order to do heart surgery RIGHT AWAY, daughter with an accident at the house before we’re even in the car to get her to the airport. You get the kind of couple of days, right?
With the boy sick, and myself exhausted from a bad round of RLS, is seemed like a good idea to go home early yesterday. Basically when The Boy was finished his work. Work where he was supposed to be let off early but was instead keptlate. Guess it was a bad day for him, too!
Back home on the range, it was clear that The Boy was going to have another night of congested-lungs-lack-of-sleep. So I suggested that perhaps I could get some Nyquil® for him. He doesn’t like pills, so liquid is a much better choice.
There is a grocery store a mere half block from the abode, so I grabbed one of
The Boy’s hoodies and headed out. No one in their right mind drives a car for half a block, right? Maybe a block by the time you go around all the fencing. Anyway, I walked.
Only to find out that the store doesn’t have a licensed pharmacy. So they had day time cold medicine, and baby cold medicine but not the one thing I needed. It didn’t make sense to go back for the car so I continued on my way to Shopper’s Drug Mart.
No interesting events on the way, it was a normal Saskatchewan day. Sunny and windy as all get out. Shoppers had what I needed, and I had something they needed as there was a lady looking for something who didn’t speak English and I was able to help her. I paid for the cold meds and left. Or tried to.
In the lobby, past the auto close doors was a little old lady (I’m short, so I’m allowed to make height judgments. She was WAY shorter than me!) trying to get back into the store through the out doors. Turns out she had asked the staff to call a taxi for her and she’d been waiting more than half an hour. She just wanted to know if they’d called, and the cab was just late, or if they’d forgotten to call. Turns out it was neither.
The girl – 17 years old? – at the till had been calling every ten minutes, but the lines were continually busy. To be fair she kept trying, but it’s unfortunate that she didn’t think to let the lady know what was going on.
I asked if they could try another cab company. But neither cashier had a number on hand. That was no surprise, I don’t have cab numbers memorized either. But there was also no phone book anywhere. Not at the till, not in the back room. That I found surprising. In the end, two employees walked by on their way home, and one of them DID have a number memorized. So I used my cell and called. And was put on hold. Tried again and got the ‘all our lines are busy” message.
The sad thing here was that the lady lived a block from me. If I’d had the car I would have driven her myself. In the end one of the two employees leaving gave her and her cart of things a lift home. Isn’t it nice to know that people do things like that? And at the end of her work day too. What a kind-hearted employee! So, that little situation all cleared up.
On the way home, a minor car accident happened. Not to me, of course, I was walking. A car parked in the street pulled out just as another car was driving by, with minor scraping on both being the result. No real need to stay, but I did. Just in case. And staying turned out to be the right call.
The driver not at fault was a guy, somewhere between 17 and 20 years old. Hard to tell, which means I’m getting older. The older I get, the younger everyone else seems. The driver that was at fault was a woman, my age. And there the similarities end. She was perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed, had gold accessories of that particular colour and weight that screams real gold and her wedding ring/engagement ring had a ginourmous diamond. You know the type, yes? Type of woman, not type diamond!
I’m glad I stayed because it was clear right away that the woman felt the whole thing was the other drivers fault. She started off being rude to him, talking about teenagers who shouldn’t be driving. He decided to call the police – good idea – and she used her cell to call someone. Husband, I’m guessing.
What I heard from her end of the conversation was:
Yes. No. I know. No. Well, I don’t think so, but this PERSON in a HOODY says yes.
I looked around, wondering where this person was. It was me! She was talking about me! I started laughing because it was just too funny. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do (or the right thing, as it made her furious which wasn’t my intention at all. I had no intention, actually, it was just truly funny). In the end my number was handed around and I left them all to it.
Went to the Sushi place that is between the apartment and the store I originally went to. As the food was getting ready, there was some texting between The Boy and me, given that I was supposed to have stepped out for a minute he was starting to worry. I guess I didn’t help when I tried texting bits of things like not speaking English, little old ladies, rude ladies and hoodies. When I mention accident and police I thought he was going to come and get me. But at that point the sushi was ready and I was a minute from home, so he stayed wrapped up in his blanket and waited to hear what had happened to my five minute errand of mercy.
In the end the sushi was excellent, the cold medicine worked because he fell asleep at nine, and I am still humoured at being a person in a hoody. Good thing I leave on vacation tomorrow, I’m going to need the break!
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