March 02, 2010
I have to learn to interpret distress signals more accurately.
This one falls under that “drowning – not waving” category.
It also falls under the "5:55 am synapses aren't quite fired up enough to perform complex analysis yet" category.
Michigan had one of those warmed-up nights that turned into a froze-down morning.
Solid ice on the commuter van windshield meant a few extra minutes of defrost blasting and scraping as far toward the center of the vehicle as best a short gal can.
I followed through on the thought to text my first pick-up and let her know that the stairs on the side of the street where I usually pick her up might be icy. She has no railing – so it’s been an issue before.
I pulled up and waited a little before 6:00 am.
I bent down to retrieve another disc from the current Janet Evanovich novel on CD that we are listening to: Finger Lickin’ Fifteen. So far, it’s been very entertaining.
Anyway, when I looked up, my passenger was coming around the side of her house and down her driveway. She waved.
“Wow,” I thought, “She’s feeling mighty friendly this morning.” Not that she’s not always friendly, it’s just that five years of commuting with her, I am acutely aware that mornings aren’t her favorite time of day.
I popped the CD in, and selected track 9, where we had left off the previous evening.
When I looked up again, she had just passed her car and was double-waving with both hands kind of like Adriano Moraes after a good 8-second ride.
I waved back, again. Then I had a half thought. Maybe she’s telling me to go on without her?
By this time my unusually happy for so early in the morning friend was at the van door.
She opened it. I said, “Yes?” She said, “Yes?”
“Were you waving at me for any particular reason?” I asked.
“I wasn’t waving!” she snarled, sliding into the co-pilot seat.
“Huh,” I marveled. “I thought it was sort of weird that you were being so friendly...”
She turned her head to look at me and barked an astonished laugh. “I was trying not to bite it after sliding partially down my driveway sideways and slamming into my car. I was trying not to let my a** or my coffee become too friendly with the ground.”
“Oh,” I said.
Then, I couldn’t help it. I just started snickering, then giggling.
It took her a couple of gulps of coffee, but she finally saw the humor in the situation, too.
Then we turned on the CD and laughed a little more while listening to a few tracks. Gotta love frozen Michigan mornings.
Posted by jaselin at March 2, 2010 10:57 AM