While running errands, which I hate to do, I took a phone call from my husband. He had a request—more errands. Please pick up my prescription at the store, which sells such things. Trying to be a doer of good deeds, I agreed.
I pulled into the drive-through. Can the world get more convenient? The mind boggles.
At the window I answered the questions, knew the right address, recited the correct birth date and shoved the cash into the convenient sliding drawer.
A gust of wind sucked the **twenty out of the convenient sliding drawer.
The girl behind the window looked stricken.
I opened my truck door, which hit the convenient sliding drawer, giving me approximately six inches to slide out between the building and my truck. Another gust of wind blew the twenty under the truck. I felt stricken. Thought about cussing.
I dropped to my knees to climb under the truck.
Coming up with the money, I cried out triumphantly, and smacked my head on the convenient sliding drawer.
I quit thinking about cussing.
It was all so convenient; I almost died.
And then I got the flu.
Mean girls, now that’s the way to live. Make a sex tape and get wildly rich, famous, and discussed.
Linda (Get It Yourself) Zern
** It used to be a ten before that Affordable Act deal.