This string of events happened to me Saturday morning. Not even joking. (Okay, truth be told, one of the events happened the morning before, but I feel like it fits in here. Close enough.)
Damn. My butt's gonna be wet. A heap of snow on the driver seat.
During our first month of exchange, five of us exchangers bought a car. Not just any car. A 1990 Nissan Sentra, nicknamed Raptor. To give you an idea of Raptor: three doors don't lock, one, in turn, doesn't unlock. Only the driver door opens from the outside. A hole in the trunk is covered by a wooden plank. And, certainly, the whole of Juneau first hears it, then smells it and only then sees it. That's our Raptor.
Anyhow, my fridge shelf is empty, and a heap of snow - barged into the Raptor through that one window which won't close - is not holding me back. One wet butt more or less, big deal.
I pull out of the UAS housing lot and nearly into the ditch. Wow. The black ice is strong this morning. I proceed to drive in walking speed.
Doing a slippery dance and covering in cold sweat on every turn, I reach the highway. It feels as if there's a better grip, I exhale in relief and accelerate a little, going smoothly. A truck flips, flies and lands in front of me.
Wait, what?
My foot has hit the brake before my brain has painted the picture. What???
A truck. From the opposite lane. Flew over the highway railings. Flipped twice. And landed feet away from the red nose of the Raptor.
I'd jump out and run over to the truck but the damn driver door that doesn't even have the inside panel..by the time I finish nibbling around the handle and thrust myself out of the car, the driver of the truck has already crept out of the upside-down vehicle. Other cars form a line behind me, cops are already here. That fast?
'Are you okay??'
'Fine, fine..'
The guy is obviously in shock, but (shockingly) seems alright. The police take over and let us pass. Shaking, I reach Fred Meyers as fast and furious as a phlegmatic snail.
By the entrance of the store, a very obese lady is screaming her head off at an employee that the motorized cart is too small and she won't fit in it. 'Murica. I slip between aisles.
***//
***//
My breathing has normalized, my shopping cart has filled - not really, about $20 worth of groceries, I can't think straight. Besides, I only took a $20 with me. I hand it to the cashier.
She squints, turns and twists and flips it. I glance at her questioningly, she glances at me suspiciously and grabs the receiver. Oh god, I think. What's going on now.
Before the store manager has reached us, I have it figured out in my head. Of course I know what's wrong. No idea how severe a crime using counterfeit money is in the States, but I'm guessing it's pretty bad. Shaking again.
The manager arrives and I blurt it out to him. Halloween party last week. People were throwing around joke bills. Must have accidentally kept one. I probably look hysterical. The manager is about to get hysterical with laughter. He lets me have the groceries for free and makes me promise I'll bring real money next time I come shopping. I thank him about a million times and exit the store with a face redder than the Raptor.
The Raptor, into which I squeeze, turn the key, and...
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
No deafening noise accompanied with putrid smell of gas. The Raptor is sulking.
***
I'm almost late to class when I return. I haven't had breakfast yet, either, so I bite aggressively into a carrot. At least I got that for free.
Vismaz nav garlaicīgi :D
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