Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Volvo driving soccer moms

"Great." She muttered. This was the fourth time in four days she had been to Walmart (why they couldn't remember everything the first trip was still a mystery to her), and now she had lost her car in the parking lot.

It had happened before. She parks, runs in for a gallon of milk, leaves the store, and suddenly, every car in the lot is a black SUV. Frustrating.

With a sigh, she starts down one aisle, this is possibly her SUV, but no, it doesn't have a trailer hitch. Not that she minds that, that stupid trailer hitch had bruised her knees so often she was ready to burn it. But, her key wouldn't start a car that wasn't hers, so she turns to another SUV.

Uh, no. No, she would never have that bumper sticker.

One SUV an aisle away looks promising, she pushes the cart through the snow and slush, only to discover that this SUV, while it is the right year, the right color, while it has the the hitch and the luggage rack, it doesn't have the car seats. She definitely needs the car seats.

Another one a few SUVs down was also promising, but no luck.

Holding her breath, she pressed the alarm on her key. With a whoosh of anger, she let the breath out. Wherever her car was, it was too far to respond to the key.

Finally, in frustration, she called her husband. Not that he would know where she parked, but at least she could vent while she walked. She was starting to gain attention from the other shoppers.

"Hey, hon, any idea where I parked?"

There was slight laughter on the other end. "No."

"Well, you might want to find something for you and the kids to eat, because every single stinkin' car is now a black SUV and I don't know how long it will take me to find ours."

Silence on the other end.

"Hon? You still there?" Her mind was already racing towards anger at dropped calls.

Very quietly, her husband responds. "Sweetie, you drove the sedan today, not the SUV."

Realization dawns, and quietly, she says "Thank you. Love you." and hangs up the phone. She turns around, and there it is, the tail end of their old blue sedan.

She carefully loads the groceries, returns the cart, and climbs into the car. Once again holding her breath, she pumps the gas pedal, inserts the key and turns. Beautifully, just like it should, the car roars to life.

She smiles. "You missed me." She's just glad the car didn't realize she had forgotten her. 12 miles was a long way to walk because your car is mad at you.

What My Car Will Be Fully Restored

Post Title from Everclear: Volvo Driving Soccer Moms


Anonymous said...

Excellent story. Maybe you should consider posting it to Yahoo!


Curly-T said...

I'm sure it would fall under the category "Complaint: Everyone drives the same thing!" :)