An exercise in grace
Yesterday I was at school late, and didn't head home until 6:30 or so. It's a good 18 miles home, and the little needle on my gas gauge was doing a little dance below the empty line, so I stopped for gas a few blocks away from school, right in the heart of lower class suburban America. Since most of the clientele at this gas station is normally pretty trashy, I was feeling pretty uncomfortable. A woman in high heels and dress pants is probably aberration at this particular locale.
It was a lovely day, and I had my sunroof open, as I often do on lovely days. (Sidebar - this has been about the most gorgeous spring that I can remember in recent history...) Anyway, when I stopped at the pump, I fished around for my debit card, then got out and started pumping, locking the door as a force of habit. Therein lies the blunder that began my aptly named exercise in grace.
Shortly after I began pumping the gas, I realized that my keys were still inside, stuck safely inside the cup holder. Damn. Fortunately, the sunroof was still open. (Thank heaven for small favors...) Looking around, I identified the only thing long enough to stick in through the sunroof and flip open the lock, which was one of those windshield cleany-wiper thingies that soak in a mess of dirty water next to the pumps. Grabbing it by the wiper end, I tried to appear confident and poised as I reached through the sunroof with the wiper and smoothly popped the lock open...
This would be the end to my story if my car didn't have a goofy panic system them starts blaring when you unlock the door from the inside. Now, instead of being just locked out of my car, I was locked out with the alarm blaring at full blast and my aura quickly fading from poised to sheepish.
After about 30 seconds of horrendous screeching, the other patrons at the gas station started giving me questioning looks. I stood there, pretty much befuddled and stupefied, wondering what the hell I should do. When the two men standing by the dumpster drinking their 40 oz's started laughing at me, I realized that I was probably creating a spectacle unlike anything they'd seen. So I decided to give them their money's worth. I kicked off my high heels, climbed on trunk of my car, crawled up to the sunroof, and dove head first into the belly of the screaming beast. Of course my butt and legs were hanging out of the roof as I fished around for, and eventually found, my keys. I contorted myself into a position that I was unaware I was capable of and put the keys in the ignition (putting the key in the ignition is the only thing that will silence the alarm at this point) all the while with my ass hanging out of the sunroof.
It would have been nice to jump in my car and immediately take off, but the pump still had about a quarter of a tank to go. With my dignity only slightly scathed, I let the pump continue. As I stood there, I tried desperately not to make eye contact with the people around me. At least twenty years later, the pump cut off, and finally I returned the nozzle. I started to get into my car, but I thought I heard, ever so softly, the sound of applause. I turned around to discover that the guys with the 40 oz's by the dumpster were apparently pretty impressed with my maneuvering.
Gentlemen, I'm so glad I could make your day.
It was a lovely day, and I had my sunroof open, as I often do on lovely days. (Sidebar - this has been about the most gorgeous spring that I can remember in recent history...) Anyway, when I stopped at the pump, I fished around for my debit card, then got out and started pumping, locking the door as a force of habit. Therein lies the blunder that began my aptly named exercise in grace.
Shortly after I began pumping the gas, I realized that my keys were still inside, stuck safely inside the cup holder. Damn. Fortunately, the sunroof was still open. (Thank heaven for small favors...) Looking around, I identified the only thing long enough to stick in through the sunroof and flip open the lock, which was one of those windshield cleany-wiper thingies that soak in a mess of dirty water next to the pumps. Grabbing it by the wiper end, I tried to appear confident and poised as I reached through the sunroof with the wiper and smoothly popped the lock open...
This would be the end to my story if my car didn't have a goofy panic system them starts blaring when you unlock the door from the inside. Now, instead of being just locked out of my car, I was locked out with the alarm blaring at full blast and my aura quickly fading from poised to sheepish.
After about 30 seconds of horrendous screeching, the other patrons at the gas station started giving me questioning looks. I stood there, pretty much befuddled and stupefied, wondering what the hell I should do. When the two men standing by the dumpster drinking their 40 oz's started laughing at me, I realized that I was probably creating a spectacle unlike anything they'd seen. So I decided to give them their money's worth. I kicked off my high heels, climbed on trunk of my car, crawled up to the sunroof, and dove head first into the belly of the screaming beast. Of course my butt and legs were hanging out of the roof as I fished around for, and eventually found, my keys. I contorted myself into a position that I was unaware I was capable of and put the keys in the ignition (putting the key in the ignition is the only thing that will silence the alarm at this point) all the while with my ass hanging out of the sunroof.
It would have been nice to jump in my car and immediately take off, but the pump still had about a quarter of a tank to go. With my dignity only slightly scathed, I let the pump continue. As I stood there, I tried desperately not to make eye contact with the people around me. At least twenty years later, the pump cut off, and finally I returned the nozzle. I started to get into my car, but I thought I heard, ever so softly, the sound of applause. I turned around to discover that the guys with the 40 oz's by the dumpster were apparently pretty impressed with my maneuvering.
Gentlemen, I'm so glad I could make your day.
posted by Flipside at 6:07 PM
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