Thursday, July 16, 2009
Kara and the terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
There's really just no other way to put it.
It started last night. After a thrilling and mind numbing meeting with our financial advisor Jeremy and I had dinner and headed for home. After arriving home in seperate cars (we both had to go to really exciting financial planner straight from work) I called the elevator, got in and rode up. The elevator stopped on floor 1 where three people got on. We began riding up and they chatted. Suddenly, and without warning, one of them turns to me and says, "Hi, my name is Sally, I live in 504". To which I responded, "I'm Kara, I live in 619....wait no, I don't live there,(mumbling ...looking at the floor). I mean, my friend lives there, I live in 706, yea, 706, uhhhhh" And then they depart the elevator. Certainly convinced that there is a crazy person living in their building, either in 619, 706 or possibly squatting in the corner somewhere. But she certainly is crazy.
This morning arrives. I attend a lovely Yoga Sculpt class and assume it will be a normal day. I leave Yoga, and notice a loud beeping from my car. BEEP BEEP BEEP. (for effect) Tire pressure too low. Okay, its not winter, so its not contraction, and i dont' notice that I have a flat tire, but I should get out and look. I stop on the side of the road, and see a nail sticking out of my tire.
Now here's my question. Why is it that I walk around streets all the time, and never see random nails just hangin' out in the road. I don't think people often do shop projects in the middle of the street, nor do I believe there are nail guns running wild. However, it does seem, that wherever my tires go, they seem to find the roads where people have completed said shop projects in the middle of them, or where nail guns have run wild, and therefore, must magnet themselves to my tire.
I call Jeremy to see what to do. He tells me to stop immidiatly as my tire will likely explode. Typical. So what do I do? I keep driving. And then I call my mom. To see what to do. Before I could even explain what had happened I see it. In my rearview mirror. Those dreaded flashing lights. The imposing red and white heading for me. I slide over to the righthand side of the road, and slither down in my seat. Office Schmuck-head gets out of his car and comes to my window, to ask the totally unnecessary question,
"Do you know what the speed limit is here?"
"Well sir, that sign there says 40, so I'm going with 40"
"No Madam. Its 35. 35 MPH until you get to that sign. Do you know how fast you were going?"
"No sir, or I wouldn't be in this situation"
"You were going 45 miles per hour"
(This is where I wanted to laugh in his face, but I refrained. 5 miles over the speed limit 50 feet from where I'm standing, but 10 miles over the speed limit at this exact spot. You've got to be kidding me)
"Okay sir, but arn't you the guy who recently helped me with the break in at that building right there that I manage?"
"Uh yea, but you were still speeding."
"Well, you see, I have a nail in my tire sir, and I was trying to get somewhere to get it taken care of."
"Well Madam, you're usually supposed to go slower when you have a flat tire"
"Or faster to get to the place to fix it, two schools of thought"
Ticket is handed to me. I am told I can contest it to get it taken off my record. Officer Schmuck-head walks back to his car. We drive away from eachother and I proceed to say some not so nice things about this fine gentleman in the privacy of my own car as I drive away.
1. I knew the guy and he still gave me a ticket
2. 10 miles over the freaking speed limit.
3. it was only 5 miles over 50 feet away from where I was. And about two more blocks down, it increases to 45.
4. I already had a flat tire, which he knew about, and didn't seem to care.
5. Shouldn't he have offered to call a tow truck or something?
6. Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day