Sometimes strange things happen to me or to people around me. Occasionally, I have thought I’m a “weird magnet.”
Here’s an example. A while ago, I met a friend for a drink at a local restaurant. We do this about once a month. Over the years, we’ve begun to refer to this as our “girl time,” because (a) the men folk don’t come along and (b) if they did, they’d likely be bored with our conversation about clothes, jewelry, children, gossip, and other “girly” stuff. Like Colin Firth. But I digress.
This particular day, it was raining on and off. My friend parked her red car in front of the restaurant and I had parked on the side. After an enjoyable hour or so, we left, parting at the door. As it turns out, this particular day was St. Patrick’s Day. Though neither of us had decked out in green or orange, we had noticed several groups of revelers in hats, beads, and other attire commemorating the day.
This is only important because of what happened next. I was about two blocks away, heading home, when my friend called me on the phone. She told me her battery was dead. Since I have jumper cables in my trunk, I rounded the block and headed back to her. All we needed to do was wait until one of the cars beside hers left and we could jump her battery.
When I returned, I was able to park three spaces down from her. She told me she had called her husband and he was on the way. I figured if the car to her right moved, I would stand in the space to reserve it for hubby. Of course, that’s when it resumed drizzling.
She got in her car and tried to start it one more time. Sure enough, that dead battery wasn’t going anywhere. She got out to look in her trunk for an umbrella. It was at that point a man wearing a green t-shirt, green top hat, and sequined bow tie exited the restaurant and looked at her red car.
“Oh great,” he said, “It’s right here.” He opened the driver’s door and slid into the seat. My friend, said, “Wonderful! He’s going to help!”
He tried three times to put the key in the ignition, unsuccessfully. My friend explained to him that the battery was dead. It was then that he got out of the car, looked at it, and exclaimed, “Oh! Sorry! This isn’t my friend’s car.” He walked several spaces to the left, got into a different red car, and was able to start it.
I am not sure why he didn’t ask what we were doing poking around his friend’s car’s trunk. I’m not sure why my friend thought he could start her car or “help” in any way. I’m not sure why I stood there in the rain when there was nothing I could do.
Being a strange-magnet has its perks, though — we got good laugh from it.
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Sue is a retired public servant who volunteers at a local elementary school and Hospice and keeps busy taking care of house, husband, son, and pets. She lives just outside of Troy, Ohio.