Saturday, May 27, 2006
My New Best Friend
I'm in Quincy for the weekend, and as I do every time I visit, I'm spending a good amount of my time running thrilling errands like buying socks and getting my oil changed. As a result, I was at the LubePro (not making the name up) today, and managed to make an amazing new friend while I was there.
"Man, I tell you, I had to clean so much stuff up off my floor just so they can vacuum in there," she declared.
Because I was clearly reading an article about Rush Hour director Brett Ratner's various artistic triumphs, and because there was also a clerk in the room who might actually care about this lady's floors, I thought this comment might not be meant for me. But then she went in for eye contact, and I knew I was doomed.
"I had CDs in there, stuff for my church, DVD cassettes," she said, making me wonder whether there was actually such a thing as DVD cassettes. "I mean, with my job, it's like I live in my car, you know? I mean, I don't actually literally live in my car, but it feels like it, you know?"
I muttered something that could be taken for neither assent nor a death threat and tried to refocus my attention on finding a delicious anecdote about working with Chris Tucker.
"I mean, I worked all day yesterday, then I went out to the races last night," she explained, as though I surely understood what this meant, "and then I worked again today, barely had time to get out here for an oil change."
"Well, you made it, though," I said. "Good work."
There was a blissful pause.
"So you going to the basketball tournament?"
And so it continued for the next ten minutes. Fortunately, my new friend got her car back before I got mine, or she might well have found herself explaining her busy schedule to my front bumper.
I'm in Quincy for the weekend, and as I do every time I visit, I'm spending a good amount of my time running thrilling errands like buying socks and getting my oil changed. As a result, I was at the LubePro (not making the name up) today, and managed to make an amazing new friend while I was there.
"Man, I tell you, I had to clean so much stuff up off my floor just so they can vacuum in there," she declared.
Because I was clearly reading an article about Rush Hour director Brett Ratner's various artistic triumphs, and because there was also a clerk in the room who might actually care about this lady's floors, I thought this comment might not be meant for me. But then she went in for eye contact, and I knew I was doomed.
"I had CDs in there, stuff for my church, DVD cassettes," she said, making me wonder whether there was actually such a thing as DVD cassettes. "I mean, with my job, it's like I live in my car, you know? I mean, I don't actually literally live in my car, but it feels like it, you know?"
I muttered something that could be taken for neither assent nor a death threat and tried to refocus my attention on finding a delicious anecdote about working with Chris Tucker.
"I mean, I worked all day yesterday, then I went out to the races last night," she explained, as though I surely understood what this meant, "and then I worked again today, barely had time to get out here for an oil change."
"Well, you made it, though," I said. "Good work."
There was a blissful pause.
"So you going to the basketball tournament?"
And so it continued for the next ten minutes. Fortunately, my new friend got her car back before I got mine, or she might well have found herself explaining her busy schedule to my front bumper.
