The weekend after Thanksgiving my husband and I drove up to my house upstate….the air was cool and crisp when we left, colder and snowing when we arrived three hours later. I plugged in my candle warmer and Cinnamon Spice filled the air as the heat began to take the chill out of the frosty house. Families of deer walked softly outside in search of food …and I had just made a pot of hot freshly brewed coffee . Ahh life is good……..reality check!….I am here to fight a speeding ticket I got back on 4th of July weekend when Dudley Doolittle got me doing 54 in a 40. With the dog barking and one of my two grandsons crying in the backseat (he thought we were gonna be arrested), it was kinda hard to plead my case, so I took the ticket and decided to fight it. I am sure if I was doing 54 it was because the speed limit was 55.…that or I just didn’t see the cop car. I mailed in my plea and waited and when it took so long to get a response I hoped they had forgotten about it. Four months later I got the hearing date. Since it was scheduled for a Monday my husband and I figured we would make a weekend out of it….hence the three hours of traffic on Thanksgiving weekend, the most traveled weekend of the year. The house was cold since the heat was set on 50 and it was clearly going to take some time to heat up. The fragrant candle scent came from a candle warmer a friend had bought us when she stayed at our house (that or she left it by mistake and is too embarrassed to ask for it back) A candle warmer is just that….it melts the wax by warming it…no flame for the neurotic, paranoid husband who is convinced that as soon as a candle is lit, it will undoubtedly ignite the house. Forget the fact that there is now an entire jar of molten wax just waiting to tip over and sear the flesh off your skin.
The dog, seeing Bambi and company sniffing at the already frozen ground decided to bark incessantly. Oblivious to the fact that if my dog had been able to get out he would have his own venison Thanksgiving feast right there on our frozen little lawn, the deer simply moved on at their own pace. I got a blanket from the bed, my book (a Kindle which is nothing more than a rechargeable book) and a cup of coffee. Jeez, no milk….I hate black coffee but at this point I needed caffeine to lose the headache I got from the three hours in traffic and my barking dog. My book ended up shutting immediately after I switched it on….battery needed charging…..to add insult to injury, the blanket smelled like baby vomit. I threw the blanket in the washer, found a June 2009 STAR magazine in the bathroom rack and made my way to the couch with my black coffee. My husband was busy changing the outside bulbs to energy saving yellow bug lights. There are no bugs in December, but he was proud of his accomplishment so I said nothing about the fact that he should have done it in June. Before I was even able to find out what reality star was pregnant in 2009 I was asleep. I guess I needed a nap. I fell asleep with, you guessed it, a cup of hot black coffee. Thankfully I didn’t spill much on the couch or rug…most of the searing liquid puddled on my left breast. The rest of Saturday was actually quite enjoyable as we saw finally got to see the newly renovated hotel decorated for Christmas (I miss my grandkids), a firework display that we watched from my back deck (I really miss my grandkids) and a comedian in the night club that was quite funny, even considering there was no way to get a buzz on with the lethargic bar service.
The plan for Sunday was simple, I go to town (sounds quaint, but there’s a Super Wal-mart, K-mart…something-Mart) and do some Christmas shopping, he goes to the Jacuzzi and indoor pool to alternately melt and freeze his balls off. To each his own, I say! After breakfast and a shower I head for one of those Marts locked and loaded for some serious shopping. Would have been nice if I had remembered to bring money since my debit card had little buying power left in it. The store was empty. Me, sixteen checkout girls and two greeters. Yup, they have greeters. You walk in the store, they greet you. “Hello, Welcome to Wal-mart” going in, “Have a nice day” on the way out. I am from Brooklyn, if I don’t know you and you talk too nice to me I get suspicious. You tell me to have a nice day and I become down right paranoid. I made my way passed the greeters and into the toy section in hopes of getting some ideas for my grandkids. It was quite disheartening and a little enlightening to find that they have pretty much everything in 9 aisles of toys between them. I found a few things for their stockings but moved on to the clothing section for the older kids. What the hell size is One? First of all I have never been anything smaller than a 14 I am sure of it. I may have even been born a size 12 for all I know, but the entire junior section had three sizes…One, Two and Three. I assumed small, medium and large. I bought the One. Just because once in my damn life I wanted to buy a size One….who to give it to is another story. On to the Household items where I could have bought a cheap rice cooker or even cheaper potato ricer if only someone on my list had wanted one. I could have bought a fajita maker in the shape of a jalapeano if someone on my list had wanted one, but what I settled for was a bird feeder refill for a feeder my son in law hung outside the upstate house. 79 cents…I decadently bought two. It has been empty for a while now and I am sure I saw a few crows giving me a dirty look last time we were up there. I wanted to yell that it wasn’t my damn feeder to fill….but I restrained. I steered myself away from the fabric department which made me sad. I, am a fabric hoarder. Nearly two hours later I made my way to the cashier, her name was Viola. Viola had an attitude. She clearly didn’t want to work this day and made sure everyone on her line knew it. She tsk-ed and huffed as she pulled the hangers off the tops I bought and gave me a sideways “you-aint-fittin’-in-these” glare as she de-hangared the size One yoga pants. If she said one word I was gonna deck her right here at checkout # 11 of Wal-mart. But Viola said nothing specific and just continued skewing and ringing until it was time to pay.
“Debit or Credit” she asked….
”I’m never quite sure what the difference is....” I laughed.
“DEBIT OR CREDIT MA’AM?!!” she wasn’t about to start explaining.
“Debit” I said meekly for some reason.
Viola had clearly won this battle and oddly I was ok with that. I will just punch the greeter on the way out.
Back at the house, my husband was happily snoring on the couch (what a surprise, at least he wasn’t holding a cup of very hot black coffee) and awoke when the dog barked (another surprise) as I walked in.
“How was your shopping?“ he asks really only wanting to know how much I spent and not what I spent it on.
“I hit a greeter” I said with a straight face.
“Nice, who’s that for?“ Did I mention he has a hearing problem??
Sunday mostly everyone in the hotel left so the show that night, another comedian, was earlier than usual. It wasn’t until we got to the nightclub that I realized why. First of all there were about twenty of us in total, my husband and I were the youngest ones there by a good twenty years, and the only ones without a wheelchair, walker or scooter (although with the way the two of us currently walk that might not be far behind) The comedian probably started his career in the 20’s and could have used a walker himself. He wore a blue blazer looking very much like the captain of the Love Boat. His last gig must have been on a cruise ship. He was funny though and he repeatedly poked fun of himself as he adjusted his hearing aid if no one laughed.
Monday morning we went to traffic court. Traffic court was in the back of a Day Care. I prepared what I wanted to say, my defense if you will and got on the line that formed in the bitter morning. A police car pulled up, unlocked the door, put on the lights and thankfully the heat as we all followed him in. The officer asked if I was speeding to which I replied that I didn’t think so…he said I had an honest face (which was probably just frozen skin cells) and he plea bargained my speeder down to a parking ticket and told me to have a seat to see the judge. The judge reiterated what the officer said about my honest face and told me to pay a fine which when I thought about it later was quite excessive for a parking ticket. Oh well, next time I will do 40.…their plan worked. It is a week after Thanksgiving and all but a small, hard piece of pumpkin pie remains and some scar tissue on my left breast.
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