I Never Should Have Gotten Out Of Bed This Morning

It all started at six o’clock this morning. I woke up to my alarm clock playing my daughter’s favorite rock station so loud I wonder that the clock didn’t explode. How the channel got changed from my regular oldies station I hadn’t the faintest idea, but what I did know was that it was an omen of a bad day. Yesterday was laundry day, which meant that unless I wanted to wear my Sunday best I would have to retrieve my clean everyday clothes from our backyard clothes line. Then I discovered that all our clean clothes hanging out on the line were soaking wet from a sudden rainstorm during the night. Yet another omen of a bad day. Still an omen is just an omen. How much worse could a day get?

Giving myself a quick, little pep talk about how the day could only get better, I proceeded to raid my daughter’s closet. My daughter was sleeping over at a friend’s house, and from what I found in her closet it looked as if she had taken her whole wardrobe with her, minus the few items that were on the line. All I could find was a tight pair of blue jeans and an old raggedy Motley Crue t-shirt. I wore them. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere so I figured it didn’t really matter what I wore. I mean, no one would ever know that my jeans didn’t fasten and I had no underwear. The t-shirt would cover everything essential as long as I didn’t bend over. And, yes, the t-shirt had some holes (what twenty-year old shirt didn’t) but again everything crucial was covered.

After dressing I decided to fix myself some eggs and toast for breakfast. Of course, wouldn’t you know it, we were out of both eggs and bread. I knew if I insisted on having breakfast I was going to have to make a trip to the store. The alternative was day old pizza or radishes that had never quite made it to a salad. Ten minutes was all it took to get to the store from my house. What could possibly happen in the short time it would take to go to the store and buy a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs? With one final check on the clothing coverage issue, I grabbed my purse and car keys and headed for the grocery store.

An hour later I was ready to scream. I knew if I had to tell one more person the description of my purse I would scream. I had explained time and again to both the store manager and the young police officer making out the official report that I had put my purse in my shopping cart so I wouldn’t have to carry it around the store. I only turned my back on it once. I had been reaching for a box of spaghetti that I had decided to fix for supper when I heard running feet. I whirled around to see what was going on. The first thing I realized was that my purse was gone. The thief had already rounded a corner so I didn’t get a good look at the culprit. I raced after him but I was too late. He was gone along with my purse, my money, my identification, and my car keys. Vanished without a trace.

Finally after all statements had been taken in triplicate, the grocery people promised to contact me if they discovered my purse or any of its contents. It wasn’t until I got back to my car that I realized I had even bigger problems than a couple of idiot grocers. My car was locked, and my keys were in my purse, and my purse was with the thief. What was I going to do? Then my fertile imagination remembered a movie I had seen a week before where they had gotten into a car by using a coat hanger. I knew I had to get into the car because I had no money for a cab save the few dollars my husband kept in the glove compartment for emergencies. I decided to try the coat hanger thing. I wasn’t exactly sure how “the coat hanger thing” was done but I figured it couldn’t be too hard. I mean, you hear about people doing it all the time. It was easy to find a coat hanger in one of the back alleys nearby. It’s surprising what you might find in one of those alleys. I worked diligently for the next fifteen minutes trying to get into the car. I didn’t even look up when I heard a car pull up. It wasn’t until someone tapped my shoulder that I knew Murphy’s Law had struck again. The next thing I knew I was being read my rights. I tried to explain that it was my car, and I didn’t have my keys because my purse had been stolen. Both of the cops just eyed my clothes, smiled, nodded, and continued reading me my rights.

Now I’m sitting in jail hoping that my husband will soon come bail me out. It was a rough day, but I learned two valuable lessons. Never leave wet clothes hanging out overnight; the weathermen are never right, and never, but never turn your back on your purse. Not even for spaghetti. I hope later on I can laugh at the coat hanger incident. Maybe I’ll be able to laugh at the whole escapade, but right now all I know is that I never should have gotten out of bed this morning.