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(Editor's Note: Read Part 1 here ...)
The only answer? Call AAA. By the
grace of God and Buddha and everyone else, I started carrying my phone with my
when I run to track my miles. There was a time, just like two months ago, where
that would not have been an option.
I called them. They gave me a 45
minute window. That would put me at about an hour before guests were supposed
to arrive. Still enough time to get my shopping in and get to the adoption
center, definitely not enough time to shower. Despite that, I tried to go for a
run, but I couldn’t really get into it. I was too nervous. Instead I went over
to a small playground and messed around on the monkey bars and stretched to
pass the time.
Then I wandered the park. Multiple
times. About an hour later, a full fifteen minutes late, the AAA driver pulls
into the lot. I’m starting to panic at this point. My window is shrinking. He
lets me into my car, asks for an ID. I go to retrieve it from the trunk and
nothing. I left my ID in the pants I was wearing the night before. I own and
wear far too many pants. Again by the grace of all things, he was willing to
accept me knowing where I’d hidden my keys and my registration as proof that it
was actually my car.
