this is a story about an old codger that is probably pretty close to being senile or worse. or he just suffers from some sort of rabid form of dementia caused by rickets, scurvy, and way to many hits of the dago red stuff. you be the judge but first send the children elsewhere.
i had to go out and take care of a few things the other day. a stop at the auto club was first on the list. pay the re-newel stuff and give them my change of address for my new digs to send up to sacramento making me more or less legal with the dept of motor boys and girls. turns out they just forward the stuff up there and it would probably take as long as the mail. though i could do it on line. why hadn’t i thought of that?
so next stop was the post office. checked my box and as usual forgot to pick up a change of address deal so any crapola i get at the old place will go to my box and won’t sit there until god knows when. most of it is really useless crap as all the bills go to my box. but one never knows. some day i’ll remember to do it.
i was still trying to remember just what the fuck i had to do after my next stop, the bank. i had a couple of checks that needed to go in. i was using the atm outside but it didn’t like one of the checks. it couldn’t read it. figures.
as a drift my bank lets you stick the check in the slot then it copies it on to your receipt. pretty cool.
though today the first check was trouble. plus i couldn’t remember how much it was for and i dawdled a bit trying to get my glasses on and i still couldn’t read the check they were showing me so the machine gave up and coughed the check back out to me. crap. i had to inside.
well, i went inside and as a result i had no idea what my account number was. hell, i only use the bleeding atms anymore. only thing i have to remember is my pin and getting my card back when i’m finished. any ways, the teller took care of biz no problem.
i was a bit flummoxed as i went back out to the car. i was wearing a pair of shorts i generally don’t wear outside the house as i have to carry my wallet on the side i don’t usually carry it on because the pants only have one back pocket. and it’s on the wrong side. trust me, if you are dyslexic it’s a fucking problem.
so i’m fumbling around with my wallet and some cash though i still manage to get the car open all at the same time. a stroke of pure luck. i get in the car and realize my glasses and case are not anywhere on my person. crap. so i get out retrace my steps and go into the bank. i figured i’d lost them by the door as i was beginning my fumbling exit act. nothing there.
they weren’t that busy so i wandered up to the teller i’d visited and asked if she had seen my glasses. no, she hadn’t. i knew i’d had them on in the bank because i’d put them on outside at the atm and kept them on when i went inside. now they were gone. poof. vanished.
i went back out and checked the car and they still weren’t there. i’m like what the fuck? so i go back in the bank. this went on for another 2 times. back and forth. for a total of at least 4 trips. i’m surprised they didn’t call the cops.
yes, there’s this old guy in here and he is claiming he’s lost his glasses here but we don’t have them and he keeps going out and coming back in even more determined that the glasses are here but we don’t have them. we aren’t really sure just what he is up to or doing. could you send an officer here, please.
yes. can you describe him to me?
ok. he’s an older guy with short gray hair. stupid looking shorts, flip flops, and a hawaiian shirt that’s seen better days and it’s missing several buttons.
do you think he’s armed?
i’m not sure but he probably is. you better send a swat team instead.
see? sweet jesus. i’m just fucking lucky that call was never made. though after my last trip in there they may have. i dunno i’d left and got in the car and was heading back to the triple a to see if they were there. yeah, i know. i’d put them on at the atm machine but now i wasn’t so sure.
i was in the twilight zone or some bad oliver stone pot boiler thingy. i even flashed on the fact that maybe i’d put them on the roof of the car and hadn’t realized it. so i slowed down in hopes if i’d done that they wouldn’t fall off. i was thinking i’d retrace my drive after i checked the triple a place. just to make sure they weren’t out in the street getting run over by every car.
i know i need new glasses. but i’d rather go thru the hassle on my terms and not because i had to do it post haste. oh sure, i have another pair but they are even older than the ones i’m wearing. reading and the computer become a headache inducing venture shortly after putting them on for any length of time.
i got to triple a and got out. hoping against hope the damn glasses were on top of the car. of course they weren’t. as i was about to close the door i saw the case. it had some how managed to get between the seat and the door frame. i’d missed it every time i’d checked the car. the glasses were in the case.
it was a miracle of sorts i assure you. there’s no other explanation for it. right? sure. what else could it be other than divine intervention? either jehovah, buddha, or swami vishnu or any combo there of had come to my rescue. pure and simple.
while i was standing there in the triple a parking lot thanking my heavenly benefactors i remembered my other mission. a trip to the place the brown eyed girl had turned me on to. the place where i’d purchased the indo food.
no indo food this time. some fresh ravioli in a meat sauce for dinner and a sheppard’s pie which went into the freezer. plus some dried spanish chorizo and a bottle of chocolate milk.