Lessons

Two days ago, I go to the mall to get some salads. The driver is unavailable so I drive myself. I decide to get a drink, as well. I like these healthy drinks—the ones loaded with fruits and veggies and no added sugar. But that’s not why I’m ordering. Someone has passed on some bad review about this place’s drinks but I want to decide for myself.

I had originally planned to drink the beverage while waiting for my salad orders “to go” but when my drink is ready, so are my salads. I tell them to put the beverage in the bag instead. Last thing I see is a lid being placed on top of my beverage cup.

I pass by the supermarket to get some bananas and then I’m ready to go home but I am suddenly afflicted with amnesia. I can’t remember where I parked my car. I decide to put a few more steps into my Fitbit and walk around the parking lot to find my car. I eventually find it.

As I ease myself into the driver’s seat and lift the bag of salads and beverage onto the seat beside me, I suddenly notice liquid dripping into my jeans. I am aghast to see the bottom of the bag, wet and giving way. The beverage is the culprit. The lid does not properly close so it effectively fails to seal the cup. As I start taking everything out of the bag, I find one container of dressing, missing.

As I ponder on whether I should go back to the salad place with a wet spot on my crotch or just drive home with one container of dressing for two salads, I scramble to flip the light switch inside the car to see better in this barely-lighted underground parking lot and delightfully discover the other container of dressing sitting on the car floor.

I decide to drink my beverage to avert further spillage. My candid review? It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t great either. I will not be reordering.

I can’t wait to get home but I am faced with another challenge. I can’t find my way out of the parking lot.

I follow the signs and find myself in an exit which is unfortunately closed. I ask help from security who points to some direction, saying, “It’s there.” Words like “right” or “left” could have been more helpful. I find myself miserably back at the same closed exit. I ask help from another member of security who points to several, different directions and tells me to just drive around as there are many exits.

After several more frustrating turns, I successfully navigate my way out of this maze but unbelievably find myself in a traffic gridlock. I am finally able to get back home with my sanity intact.

Things can go wrong but they work out in the end. Growing old entails inconveniences but if you think about the alternative (dying young), things aren’t that bad. I don’t normally need a man but in this particular case, I needed one. I don’t mean to be sexist but my driver happens to be a man.

Growing old entails inconveniences but if you think about the alternative (dying young) things aren’t that bad