And How Was Your Day Mrs. Kennedy? Did You Enjoy The Parade?

25 October 2010

Story #318

R. Linda:

So are you going to ask me how me day is so far? Probably safer not to. But I know you want to know, so I'll save you the trouble and tell you all about it. For example, just three hours ago, Tonya asked me to take HER mother to pick up some fabric for O'Hare's Halloween costume. The lad is going to be a Knight Templar, and he has to have this silver mesh-looking stuff that resembles chainmail. Ton could not find it, but a neighbour said there was some at the fabric store five towns away. Because Tonya was busy making homemade scones with Mam, I was designated to drive Dragon to the fabric store. I was not pleased, and I tried to enlist Da, but he was busy with what? Crossword puzzle!

Anyway, there we were, HER and me driving along. We got to the town in virtual silence, and sat at a crossroads. I said to her, "Ok, we are here. Now where do we go?"

"I thought you knew," says she.

"No, I don't. Do you have an address?"

"No, I thought you had it."

I rubbed me face with me hands and wanted to groan. I got me mobile out and called Tonya. I told her we were in town and asked her to give me the address because neither of us had it. This she did with a few instructions. I started in the direction she told me, but we were talking about a country town with little more than a general store. I got all turned around when Dragon shouted for me to make a left, she saw the place. So, I turn around, make a right, and down the road we go to find a feed store. Without a word I made a 'Uie' and returned the way I was told to go. She said nothing until I went over the railroad tracks. She announced we were now in the next town, and so we were. I turn around. I drove up and down that main road, I don't know how many times, until finally, frustrated, I pulled over.

"Gabriel, there is no shame in asking for directions."

"There is a petrol station a mile up the road. I'll pull in there, and you can ask," I said.

So off we go. I pull in, and the station lad comes over to me, naturally. I ask him if he knows where such and such a fabric shop is, and he has no clue. He shouts at his boss, and the man says he "thinks" it is just up the road. Two lefts, a blinking light, make a right, and Bob's your uncle. I thank them and drive off the way he told me.

"Now was that so awful?" Dragon pipes up.

I gave her a look and said nothing. I just kept on, then made the two lefts, came to the blinking light, made the right, and guess what? There was no fabric store; instead, there was the town dump. I sat there looking at the closed on Monday sign.

"Well, this isn't it," I mumble.

We turn around, and a man is getting into his car. Dragon excitedly tells me to "Stop! Pull over and ask that man if he knows where the store is."

I pull up and he smiles as I ask THE question. He thinks for a minute then he says, "Itttttzzzzz downnnnn downnnnn downnnnn onnnnn onnnnnn onnnnn gro gro gro gro -- ver ssss ssss ssss ssttree street!"

Would it not be expected that we would ask directions of a man with a speech impediment? I am like, "Okay, thank you," but no, I didn't get to say that. Dragon leans over me and says, "Where?"

And again, we go through the "Itttttzzz itttttzzzz dow dow dow down ah ah onnn grow grow growv growv grover ssss ssss ssss stir stir stre stre stiree strireet street!"

While he was trying to get that out, she was whispering, "Sounds like, yes, sounds like Grow no? Grover? Yes Grover?" I wanted to hit her. Between the two of them I was slowly losing it. Doesn't it just figure? Only me would ask directions of a man with a stutter.

So off I go AGAIN. I have no clue where Grover Street is because I thought asking him how to get there would take an hour, and I'd rather just waste petrol and drive around a town that I had no idea where I was. Just after fifteen minutes, as I was ready to call it quits, there in front of me at the one blinking light is GROVER STREET. I saw it first, I want you to know, but before I could put me foot to the gas pedal, the Dragon was wiggling around in her seat, pointing and shouting, "THERE IT IS, THERE'S GROVER STREET, GO STRAIGHT, GO STRAIGHT!"

Oi! I drive on down and there, sure enough, is the fabric store. She jumps out and I never got to even say, "I'll wait here while you get the material," because eventually me presence wasn't needed UNTIL; she discovered the fabric, had the yardage cut, and then got to the checkout. THEN I was needed, more me money was needed. She was tapping on the shop window at me to come on in and I could read her lips, "And bring your money."

I went in and discovered I had left me wallet behind.

"Oh I'll get it," says she, "Men they just can't remember anything."

So she takes out her debit card and asks the girl, "Do I slide it in this way or the other way?"

"On the bottom where the magnetic strip is," I pipe up, and she hushes me. The girl tells her the same thing.

I shook me head, it was all too simple, but no, Dragon must make simple a chore. She even makes fun of herself, a rarity, by saying, "Sometimes I forget my brain," ha ha ha ha.

As she picks up the bag and walks off, I pick up her card, which she has brainlessly left on the shop counter, and call her, "Oh, Mrs. Abdullah?"

She turned and looked at me with a scowl.

"You forgot your brain, I mean card." I smiled.

She came back instantly, grabbed it out of me hand, and mumbled about having to put up with "some people."

I was smiling all the way back, and I asked her every time I came to a stop if she was sure she had everything and hadn't left anything back at the fabric shop. "Are you sure?" I'd say, and she'd angrily say, "YES! I'm sure." She did not like me very much—well, she liked me less than she did before, let's put it that way.

Now we are home. She's busy sewing, Tonya left to pick O'Hare up at school, and me Mam is playing a game of whist with me, Da. The youngest is napping, and I am up in the loft, where it's safe, for now.

Gabe
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