He wanted to know if I would meet him with "one of those girl drivers" to pick up the van that had been repaired that day. I reminded him that meeting him made no sense since we would then have three cars and only two licensed drivers. He mulled that over for a while and then conceded I was correct.
He thought some more. Would I be ready and would I be willing to jump in the car when he pulled up to ride with him to pick up the van? I said, of course, being one who is always ready and willing, but then I suggested that we do the pick up the next morning seeing as how the window repair place was on his way to work. He mulled that over. And over.
I finally told him to think about it on the rest of the drive home and we hung up. By the time he got home he was all for my idea as long as "you can get up early".
I have never been one that can't get up. I may not want to get up, which is really what I'm sure he meant when he said that, but I am one of those people that can be up and ready in minutes. I don't need to shower as I do that every night before bed (OCD). I don't have to fix my hair or put on make-up. I don't have to worry about contacts. All I have to do is pee, wash the face, brush the teeth, and put on a bra. I even wear pajamas to bed that could actually be seen as an outfit so if I don't want to I don't have to change.
Can I be up early? Pfft. He knew that answer. Before I went to bed last night I asked him what time we would need to leave.
Tom: "Seven-ish...7:20"
Me: "Which is it? 7:00 or 7:20. There is a big difference between Seven-ish and 7:20."
Tom: "The difference is twenty minutes."
I walked away and set the alarm for seven and was ready by 7:08. We left the house at 7:17. He is Mr. Chatty in the morning and he drove and talked. I could not listen because his driving was atrocious. Madison had mentioned to me recently that she was concerned about his driving ability (this is what happens when teens become aware and learn how to drive). I lectured him on his speed through neighborhoods and his rolling stops through stop signs. He poo-poohed my lectures and defended himself. I continued lecturing and reminded him that he had teen drivers that needed him to be on top of his game.
Me: "I learned about all of these techniques in defensive driving school."
Tom: "And you were there because...."
Me: "I got a speeding ticket and didn't want points on my license."
Tom: "Exactly. I rest my case...."
We got on to the main road, one of the busiest in our county and currently under construction which makes it a nightmare. As we came upon a bakery, he swung into the parking lot as we "had five minutes".
He doesn't usually travel this way to work, but when and if he does he likes to stop at this bakery for their coconut cream coffee which is delicious. He has a punch card. I had started to suggest we do this earlier before we left, but didn't want to hear him talk about how he needed to get to work.
We got out and ordered two coffees. I love this place because they have flavored creamer and so I got my coffee and went to work opening up the little creamers and dumping them into the large coffee. He stood behind me waiting. I reminded him that I like a little coffee with my creamer and continued opening and dumping. He went outside. I was past his time limit apparently.
This made me nervous. I finished dumping, earlier than normal only five creamers instead of eight, stirred and replaced the lid. The coffee was damn hot. The cups are certainly not up to par with Starbucks and the little preventive piece of cardboard put around the cup to protect your fingers was not up to that standard either. I joined him outside and we got into the car.
I remarked, as I got settled into the seat, that the coffee was damn hot. He agreed, put his coffee into the cup holder, and suddenly began backing up. I couldn't put my coffee into the second cup holder because I had a cup of water in that one so I was attempting to switch the two so that I could dump the water out the side door when he began moving. I didn't even have my seat belt on.
As he backed out, he hit the brake so that he could put on his seat belt and this caused me to squeeze the coffee cup in my hand. The lid immediately popped off and coffee sloshed on to my leg, down the cup and on to the floor of the car.
Tom: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Me: "Damn! That is hot!"
Tom: "ARE YOU CRAZY? PUT THE LID ON!"
Me: (I had brought out napkins and began wiping my leg) "Oh, for heaven's sake settle down. I didn't mean to do that."
I took out the water glass and put it at my feet. I wiped the coffee cup and the surrounding area where coffee had spilled. I replaced the lid on the cup, and as I did, Tom lurched the car forward because he was in the entrance and someone wanted to enter. Of course, I squeezed the cup again and the whole scenario repeated itself.
This time coffee went everywhere; my leg, my arm, the floorboard, the middle console, even the steering wheel. Tom continued driving and more coffee spilled. I couldn't help it. I started laughing hysterically, which only made my hand shake and the coffee spill some more.
Tom: "PUT THE LID ON! OH, MY GOD! HOW HARD IS IT?"
Me: "Stop driving! I'm trying to get my seat belt on. That's more important then this spilled coffee."
Tom: "Put the lid on!"
I couldn't stop laughing. I was clicking my seat belt and wiping up spilled, hot coffee off my body, and off the console and off of his own coffee cup in the console. We were now at a light and he had to stop. He took out the rubber cup holder that sits in the holder in the console and made me put it on my cup so that it wouldn't be too hot.
He wouldn't listen when I tried to explain the problem wasn't the hotness of the coffee. I kept laughing and finally, he started laughing. We wiped up coffee and the light turned green. I put the lid on, put the cup into the holder, and proceeded to use Kleenex (having run out of napkins) to continue to wipe up spilled coffee. As I got to the floor of the car I noticed ice and realized that the cup of water that had been at my feet had totally turned over and dumped out all the contents there as well. I didn't mention that.
I finished cleaning up. He finished his tirade. We drove along talking. I reached for my coffee to take a sip and damn if the lid didn't pop off one more time. Thankfully the coffee didn't spill far this time having already gone down several inches, but it did spill. This set me off laughing again and him telling me to put the lid on, which only made me laugh harder. By the time we got to the repair place his nerves were rattled and I was wide awake and ready to face the day with or without caffeine.
He got out and moved his stuff to the van, swishing and swiping as he did so with a Kleenex on places he swore he saw coffee stains. I told him I would dutifully clean it up when I got home and not to worry about it. He remarked how the whole car would smell like coffee for days. I reminded him it was a nice smell. We kissed and got into our respective cars and I followed him out of the maze of the industrial park. He got into the right lane to turn right on the busy, construction road, and I went into the left lane. My light was red so I reached down to get my coffee and POP! Off came the lid and slosh went the coffee.
I started laughing again and lifted the cup so he could see that the lid popped off again. He didn't laugh this time and I could see him mumbling. I guarantee he was saying, "How hard is it to put the lid on the cup?"
I laughed all the way home.
No comments:
Post a Comment