I got lost on the way to get Husband’s car serviced yesterday. I grumbled about being asked. I griped about the inconvenience. I pissed and moaned about the extra errand in my day. And then I got lost.
Well, not really lost. I took a right when the lovely lady in my GPS on my phone would have rather I’d taken a left but she didn’t yell or scream or tell me I was stupid, she just recalculated and politely let me know what I needed to do next. And next was a beautiful drive car through the green rolling hills of Tennessee, dotted with occasionally picket fences and rolls of hay.
Very different from the last time I took my car in for a service in California. I got lost then too but the lovely lady in my GPS wasn’t as nice. Nor were the drivers. No one waved to let me know it was my turn at the stop sign. No one smiled as they passed me on the road. Not one roll of hay was spotted –I’m totally not counting the stuff the guys on the corner were smoking as hay.
I did, however hear lots and lots of cuss words – most of them coming loudly directly out of me. I suspect that GPS lady was also saying a few under her breath too but she was too polite to share. I did learn that when you end up in a not so safe neighborhood in San Jose because you got off the wrong exit, no one will smile at you and wave you on - unless you count the middle finger rapidly rising into the air as a wave. The good news, no one in the not so safe neighborhood wanted my Smart Car. The bad news, if they had tried, I might have been able to get directions since the GPS lady was failing horribly at directing me out of the hood.
It took me two hours with traffic and my side sightseeing in the hood trip to get to the dealer for my service last year. Two hours of flop sweat and stress with my shoulders in my ears and my heart beating way to rapidly for a safe drive. Two hours there and two hours back that shot my day to hell and put a black cloud of doom above my head for far too long.
Yesterday, my extra ten minutes of lost took me past these beautiful mansions, situated perfectly in the center of their acres of green grass, their mailboxes decorated artfully for fall with fancy ribbons and flowers and pumpkins. No one cut me off or cursed me out and I didn’t have to raise the finger or my voice once. I just drove and sang and looked at the pretty houses and trees and birds and took in deep calming breaths because I could and not because I needed to. It was like a guided meditation, it was so peaceful and lovely.
And, when I got there, the service guy called me ma’am - in a polite and friendly way, not a ‘your old now’ way - and gave me a loner car while chatting with me about mundane things and laughing at my silly jokes. The other owners dropping off their cars actually smiled at me and exchanged pleasantries. AND two people actually said I had lovely hair and were amused when I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Don’t tell Husband but I would actually take his car in for a service again.
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me