"Have you had dinner yet?"
"Do you wanna go to the Pineville OG to have dinner with me?"
"Sure. I need to get ready though."
"Okay. How about 8 o'clock?"
"That sounds good. I'll see ya then."
So I go back to the house and change out of work clothes, let the dogs out and give them dinner, and kill a little time on iTunes. I was getting ready to make an awesome old school 90's rap/pop cd when I realized what time it was -- 8:00. "Oh crap! I need to call Shannon and tell her I'm just now leaving."
I hop into my car and back down the driveway, hit the garage door button and then think, "Oh crap! Did I lock the front door after I took out the dogs?" (Since we go out through the garage instead of the front door, I always have to ask myself this question.) I take my keys out of the ignition, run up to the front door, and TGIL (<=--thank goodness it's locked!). I turn the car back on and then it cuts back off. I think, "REALLY? Seriously? This is happening right now?" (I don't like to be messed with when I'm hungry y'all. Elliott* starts yelling at me.) I turn it over again, still nothing. I call Shannon.
"Um... have you left yet?"
"Not quite yet, why?"
"My car won't start. Well, actually it will start but then it cuts off again. Like, the engine goes and everything and then.... no more."
"Hmm... hold on-- my mom's on the other line. I'll ask her to ask Dad."
(Five minutes later and still no resolution about my car problem but somehow it magically starts!)
"Hey! It started! I think I'm just gonna take my chances and drive down there instead of you going out of your way to get me."
"Ok. Well, it'll still take me a little longer because I need to stop for gas."
"That's ok. I'll go ahead and put our name in for a table so you won't have to wait as long."
"Ok. I'll see ya in a little bit. Bye."
Fifteen minutes later I pull into Carolina Place Mall. Turn left to go into Olive Garden's parking lot and then
Not an Emeril kind of BAM! a baaad kind of bam!
The kind that results in a police report.
So I sit in the car for like 30 seconds and then I'm like, "Ok. I'm okay. But my car is soooo not okay. That felt really bad." Do I really want to get out and look at the damage? No. Not yet. I need to call someone. And then I burst into tears. (I don't know why because I've been in wrecks far worse than this. I think it was more frustration than anything. Anyway, I'm digressing.)
I look for the OG Pineville number in my cell phone and call it. (And I'm still crying.)
"Thank you for calling Pineville Olive Garden. This is Tiffany. How may I help you?"
"Is Tim there? This is Olivia."
30 seconds later...
in his professional voice: "Hi, this is Tim."
"Hey. (pause) I've been in a wreck." (still crying)
"Oh my God! Where are you? Are you OK?!"
"Yes, I'm outside in the parking lot-- just come out the back door!"
The police come, some witnesses stay behind to say that it wasn't my fault and then twenty minutes later Shannon gets there, and I finally get to eat** and have a glass of wine.
*Elliott is my tapeworm. Don't ask and don't hate.
**Try the shrimp carbonara -- it's new and it's soooooo good. I also highly recommend the pumpkin cheesecake. But not on the same night because you'll be so full you'll be sick. Seriously. Or maybe that's just me...
And now the door won't open and the window won't go up or down.
I think this means I have to get a new door. :(