Saturday, February 11, 2006

Magnetic Luck

Here are a couple of facts about me that often go hand in hand:

I have bad luck.
I am a drama magnet.

Things so often don't go my way that people say things like, "Of course that happened to you."

When I was diagnosed with celiac in September, my sister told her friend Ginger, whose response was, "Of course that happened to Pam."

That falls into the bad luck category. In a kind of big way.

There are plenty of other examples of my bad luck but the drama thing is more interesting.

To be fair, I often create my own drama. I am creative and, therefore, extraordinarily sensitive so that doesn't help.

So, sometimes though I am justified in having a reaction, my reaction can border on dramatic.

Okay. Disclaimers out of the way.

Tonight, after spending 2 and a half hours at the doc-in-the-box getting diagnosed with acute sinisitus and acute pharyngitis - all of which are probably short for my body would like me to slow down - I went to meet my sister and her two sons to eat.

I felt like staying home. But all I'd had to eat today were 2 Sugar Babies. Why 2? Because I knocked the box over and the rest of them spilled all over the floor.

I got there before them and went ahead and ordered my baked potato and side of cold bell peppers. (I don't know, it sounded good.) I had to go through my usual machinations of if someone's touched bread, can they change their gloves, etc. So the guy behind the counter already thought I was a little crazy.

I choose a booth and pull up a high chair for the baby. He brings my food. So now I'm sitting alone at a giant booth with an empty high chair. He looks at me with a mix of confusion and concern as he sets down my food.

When my sister finally arrives and goes to place their order, he says, "Oh. It all makes sense now. I couldn't figure out why she was eating alone with an empty high chair."

This is all just backstory.

We're eating a pleasant meal, my 2-year-old nephew is being the cutest child on the planet, when a guy in a baggy red t-shirt, sweats, and a baseball cap comes in and says (to all 7 of us in the restaurant), "Does anyone here drive a blue Jetta?"

That would be me.

"Oh, man," he says. "I just smashed your car to bits."

Excuse me?

"I smashed right into it. The good news is only one side is crushed. And I'm rich. How much was that car? About $30,000?" I say yes and he says he'll give it to me in cash.

I tried not to judge, but this guy didn't look like he had 30 grand to hand over.

I skeptically follow him out, thinking how much it totally and completely sucks that my car is wrecked. He runs into me and kind of puts his arm around me for a second, which freaks me out.

When we get out there, a parked car blocks mine into place. A black truck with its hood up is next to mine. In front of it are three guys wearing sweatshirts with the hoods up.

The guy turns, "I was just kidding. I didn't hit your car."

"Are you joking?" I start to back away.

"We just need a jump. Can you give our car a jump? We've got somewhere to be."

"So do I. Sorry. Why would you say something like that?"

"Ah, man, it was just a joke."

"That's a hell of a way to ask someone to do you a favor."

He laughs. He asks if I could just move my car so the car blocking me in can jump the other car. I say I have to get my keys, and I go inside.

My sister has gotten the guy from the restaurant who, luckily, is a very large, very burly guy. He accompanies me out. He knows one of the guys from the ice cream store. They shake hands. He supervises while I move my car.

Cars are stacked up waiting for spots.

I go around one of them and there, waiting for me, in a rare moment of good luck, is an empty spot in front of Starbucks. Just being parked at Starbucks makes me happy.

Still, as I walk back to the restaurant, my heart is beating a little fast waiting for one of these guys to run over, tackle me, grab my keys, and steal my Jetta when I already feel like hell.

(I know, sometimes I create drama. But you have to admit this was weird.)

I go back inside.

My sister turns to me and says, "Of course that happened to you."


Blogger The Sandmonkey said...

Now that's fucked up!

4:31 AM  
Anonymous effyourself said...

I've said it before, but i'll say it here... the only reason this kinda stuff happens to you is because you're HAWT. Ask a homely friend if any weird shit happens to her... she'll say no.

8:03 PM  
Blogger pamela said...

effie, you're such a big sweetie.

i should just hop on a plane and come see you.

12:35 AM  
Anonymous ajoy said...

jeeeez you can't even catch a break while you are dreaming. :)

7:33 PM  
Blogger pamela said...

aj - it was a perfectly lovely dream. :)

10:20 PM  

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