My sister, who has been sick with some flu-like thing for a week and a half, called me on Saturday, and said, “Would you like to come over tomorrow and we’ll make kuchen? Dan (our cousin) is in town visiting Dale and Jeanne (our uncle and aunt). We could take a couple kuchens over there for them.”
I say OK. So we make kuchen on Sunday.
On Monday, my sister is feeling worse from her flu. So now I have to take the kuchen to my aunt and uncle’s place. Which really pisses me off. SHE has volunteered to make kuchen and take it there, and now, here I am, taking instead. I call them and I say I’ll come over with the kuchen after supper sometime. 7:30 or so. Fine, they tell me.
It’s dark now at 7:00 when I leave the house, and the fact that I can’t see a damn thing in the dark is the first problem. I drive to my sister’s. I pick up the kuchen. I get back into the car and get my phone out of my purse because my aunt and uncle live in a security building and you have to call them when you get there so they can come and open the door to the building. (No buzzer.) I lay the phone beside me, and back out of the driveway. As I turn into the street, the phone flies across the car and lands in the back seat. I can’t feel it. And. It’s dark. So I stop the car, get out, get in the back seat, and move stuff around until I find the phone. I get back in and put the phone in the cup holder. I start the car and realize–oh. I have no gas. So now I have to get gas.
As I’m driving and looking for a gas station along the way, it starts to rain. So I call my sister in order to increase her guilt about my having to do this by saying “And now it’s raining.” I’m dialing the phone in the car, in the dark. No answer. Finally I come to a gas station. I fill up the car and hang up the spout, and the pump readout says “Go inside for your receipt.” So now I’m pissed about that, too. Why pay outside if you have to go inside anyway? As I lean into the car to get my purse to go inside, my phone rings. It’s some guy who says, “I don’t know who you are but you called me.” I say, “I don’t know who you are either. Maybe I dialed the wrong number. You think?” (One of the many problems with cell phones is you can’t SLAM them down when you’re mad and hanging up on someone.)
So I go in and get my receipt, and continue on my way. My relatives live way way way on the other side of town where I never go except to see them. And it’s dark. Very very dark. I get to my turn and end up turning onto the wrong street. After driving to the end of the dead-end driveway, I think, “OK. This is wrong.” And have to back up all the way to the street. So I start again. Finally I arrive at the correct place, get out my phone to say “I’m here, let me in.” No answer. I dial again, and then I see my aunt standing in the doorway. I walk over there and she says, “Did I misunderstand you on the phone this morning?” I said, no, I just said I’d come here after supper. “Well”, she said, “we talked to Jim (my husband) wondering where you were.”
Huh? Granted, it’s now ten to eight, and I would have been there sooner had I not had to deal with all the unforeseen circumstances. I stay for a few minutes, explaining why I wasn’t there at 7:30 on the dot, which apparently was a huge problem for them.
Then I go back home, without getting a flat tire or having an accident. A miracle.
My sister owes me.