ever feel like the world's cynicism is worming itself into your every fiber, essence, life-force, and/or worm-delicate soul? not trying to bum you out or anything, but lately--lately, I can tell that I've been lacking in the smiley face, love thy neighbor department. maybe my water-bearer stars are not aligned (hate it when Mars stomps into Saturn's house!), or maybe the year of the rat isn't working so well with my monkey mojo.
tee hee, monkey mojo...
last Wednesday night I was in my honda odyssey making a son's-birthday-the-next-day gift run and found myself in the Meijer parking lot; I swear, there are days when I think my car is on Meijer autopilot.
it was a beautiful day that seeped into a beautiful, dusky evening. I got out of my car feeling the slight breeze on my skin, looked up at the clear sky, and began to really take in the beauty the world was offering me that night. my lungs pulled in the summer's evening air, a mix of cut grass, barbecue, and a slight trace of carbon monoxide...well I was in a parking lot! my ears were filled with the cicadas evening buzzing, songbirds chirping their final opus, and the grinding of an ignition from an elderly person who forgot he already turned on his car...again, parking lot.
all the serene sensory input had an effect on me. I was feeling positive about the world, I felt grateful and hopeful that I was debugging my worm-soul infestation. life is good, I emphatically stated in my head. and that's when I saw it: a 1968 Volvo P1800 coupe (yes, I googled it)--with it's lights on.
with my monkey mojo at maximum and Saturn kicking Mars' butt out the front door, I knew I had found my answer to my life-force funk: do a good deed, and prove to your neighbor how much you love he or she! plan A was to open the car door of the classic beauty and anonymously shut off the lights.
"yeah, yeah! anonymous good, taking credit baaaad." whispered my Jiminy Cricket conscience.
I strode over to the classic beauty and quickly realized that the doors were locked, no way to shut off the lights in an anonymous fashion. would have to engage plan B--Meijer, the superstore.
still euphoric from my soul-saving plan, I walk with a spring in my step through the motion-sensored glass doors, humming Pinocchio's "give a little whistle" tune and repeating the volvo's license plate in my head, over and over and over--I'm almost 40 repetition is a must! I see the greeter open her mouth, pat phrase ready to repeat, when I pre-empt her with a child-like gush of: "there's a car in the parking lot with it's lights on!"
"o-kaaay..." says she in a so-what-am-I-supposed-to-do-about-it manner.
"I've memorized the license plate. it's a white volvo coupe with license plate number..."
she calls out over my shoulder to an exiting Meijer customer, "thanks for shopping at Meijer." with that required insincerity accomplished, greeter pays attention to me like a harried mom trying to calm her ADHD child. I don't stop to listen to Meijer associate's union response on how-to-get-out-of-work numero uno (it's not in my job description) answer, I go for the humanity/guilt tactic. "you see, I'm guessing it's a late 196o's volvo and more than likely every second counts before the battery wears out, possibly making the owner stranded."
I go in for the kill..."oh, doesn't Meijer do this kind of thing? helping it's customers? no?"
she heads for the wall phone and asks for the Meijer customer's attention over the PA, while I whisper the details of the volvo coupe for her to share with the superstore. I thank greeter, feeling great about my good deed, when it occurs to me that whenever I hear the PA system call out, "attention Meijer customers..." I more likely than not, tune out.
volvo owner probably didn't even hear the announcement, reality bites.
feeling more squelched than perky now I head for the toy section. suddenly, I see a stylin'/hip looking guy running towards the exit with a smile of gratitude on his face. we make eye contact, and for some reason, I just know he's the owner of the 1968 volvo P1800 coupe and he's thankful for the anonymous good deed.
since my own Meijer jaunt lasted a total of 2 minutes (didn't have the toy I wanted), I walked to my car and noticed the lights on the volvo had been turned off.
consider me dewormed.