Mable

A co-worker and I were on a roll with a brainstorming session today and decided to continue over a power lunch at Paradise Bakery. What’s better than firing the neurons while eating a yummy chicken walnut sandwich, complete with a Diet Coke and chocolate chip cookie? Why, nothing!

We had a great work lunch and about 1:30 packed it in to head back to the office. We got all the way out to my car when K realized he’d left his notebook inside. I told him to run and grab it and I’d pull the car around. Which is just what I did.

When I got up to the front, I parked along the side and waited. I was watching a girl that was coming out because she had HUGE guns. No, not firearms, biceps. I mean this chick was buff! Was she an athlete or weight lifter? If an athlete, what kind. She was broad shouldered, like a swimmer but could also be a gymnast. These are the thoughts that were going through my mind when I first saw Mable.

Well, that’s what I’m calling her. I don’t really know this woman’s name but she looked like someone who could be a Mable. She was a tiny little old lady, with a cane, and she was hobbling toward my car. At first I thought she might walk right by, but then she turned around the front right corner and started to inch along the curb toward the passenger door. That’s when K came out. He caught up and got behind her.

Then we both realized she was trying to hitch a ride. I had the window all the way down so I said, “Ma’am, you have the wrong car.”

She didn’t seem to hear me.

She pulled on the handle and opened the door. K then said, “Um, excuse me, you are at the wrong car.”

From behind us I could hear a woman shouting, “MOM! THAT’S THE WRONG CAR!”

Mable had the door open by now and was starting to climb inside my car! She literally had one foot inside and was trying to hoist herself up. We continued to tell her she was in the wrong car. At one point she said, “Are we holding up that car behind us?” Um, no, that’s your car!

She got all the way inside and then turned to look at me, most likely to complain about the rude young man following her and telling her to get out, when she made eye contact. That’s when she realized I was not her daughter. Her eyes got all big and she said, “Oh my! This is the wrong car!”

Oh really? No way!

Her daughter had run up to my car by that point and started to help her out. They both apologized profusely. K and I got a good laugh out of it. K said he was waiting for her to pull out a thing of MACE and spray me for trying to hijack her daughters vehicle.

All this just because K forgot his notebook.

 

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2 thoughts on “Mable

  1. Pingback: A Walk in the Park « Team Trader Mom

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