I have been intending to write since Thanksgiving, when I made a logistics error that required going to the grocery the night before Thanksgiving. It was as chaotic and crazy there as I expected.
The adventure of shopping always starts with a good effort to get a parking space as close as possible to the front door. Walking is always painful these days so it is worth the investment in gasoline and time to circle the lot a few times. It was a frenzy of people and cars, and the only available spaces were at the extreme edges. I eventually found a space fairly close, but in making a couple of laps I noticed that someone far more desperate than I, driving a full sized white SUV, had parked in a shopping cart return stall. It meant no one could return baskets to that corral. It also meant that the huge 4WD vehicle was sticking out in the traffic lane by almost a half-car length. Wow. That took more chutzpah than I would have ever dared in such a stressed out crowd! I did not take it personally, thinking that person may have bad knees like me, or was in far more of a hurry than the rest of us. I also considered that the driver was simply the biggest asshole in the parking lot that night.
Later, as I was exiting the parking lot, I had to drive past the white SUV. In desperation or retaliation, people had parked their empty carts all around the back of the vehicle. I could only hope that the store employees did not get to those carts before the driver returned.
Now it is almost Christmas. I completed all of my shopping yesterday, December 23. It was as crazy in Topeka as you would guess. However, I discovered one wonderful perk of shopping so closely to Christmas: men. Yes. Young and old men Christmas shopping in their natural gender-based timing, as God intended! I daresay there were a considerable number of attractive men everywhere I looked.
(I wish to make something perfectly clear: I am NOT a lecherous old woman lurking around public places with impure thoughts toward any unsuspecting member of the masculine persuasion! It is simply pleasant to see handsome men.)
Speaking of handsome men... It snowed quite a bit last week, close to five or six inches in my area of Wabaunsee County. I had to drive the old truck in order to get to work. Amazingly, the old girl still fires right up, and the four wheel drive works - in both speeds. The heater, cruise control, and electric locks and windows continue to function. The truck is almost 14 years old. It is why I am a loyal Ford fan. I do complain where Ford engineers take short cuts, like using plastic that degrades on all outside handles, and the deterioration of the covering of the steering wheel and cruise control buttons. (Good thing I have those buttons memorized from the 250,000 miles I spent driving that vehicle.) But back to men...
I stopped at an auto parts store after work to buy Stabil. I intended to fill up with gas and it would be a perfect time to add that miracle concoction into the gas tank. Stabil keeps gas fresh in vehicles that sit for long periods of time. I also needed windshield fluid. I thought I should get at least a gallon of antifreeze, too. I had the idea I could add antifreeze into the overflow reservoir and not have to worry about opening the radiator itself. I was quizzing the 13 year old kid behind the counter, but it stumped him. He ventured a tentative guess that I could, but neither he nor I knew if that would actually mix the antifreeze into the coolant system.
Luckily, men were in that store behind me in line - manly men who knew about such matters. A masculine voice spoke, declaring that I could add the antifreeze into the reservoir, depending on the year of the vehicle. I turned to face a man about my age. He had an attractive trimmed silver beard, white hair and very cheerful blue eyes. (Santa?) He gestured to the tall young man behind him, "He works with cars." That was an acceptable credential for me. I said it was a '01 Ford Ranger, and in their opinion, antifreeze could be added into the reservoir.
I thanked them for their help and left the store. I immediately put the Stabil into the gas tank and opened the hood to add the wiper fluid because it was entirely dark and I had to drive home on a slushy I-70 where the passing big trucks cover the windshield with blinding ice and salt and dirt. Once again the two men came to my aid, and in a very gallant way. "Santa Claus" came over and asked if I would like some help.
Okay, I admit, back in the day, I would have politely told him I did not need help. I was never going to be a stupid damsel in distress! In these present days, I welcome a little help. I lied and said "I never turn down a helping hand!"
So, for the next five minutes the two gentlemen filled the wiper fluid reservoir, and removed the rodent nest (and the store of food) discovered beneath the hood. The young man also took the radiator cap off! I pleaded with him to not take that chance because I was afraid he would be sprayed with boiling water. He solemnly assured me he knew what he was doing. In his opinion, no antifreeze was needed. I was sincerely thankful to the men who volunteered their knowledge and their assistance. It was very kind of them, especially considering how I looked. My winter coat is perpetually covered in mud and horse slobber. I had changed into insulated, steel toed, Pro Series lace-up work boots in case I had trouble on the way home. I was wearing those boots with a work skirt and black stockings. I looked like an overweight Granny Clampett. Damn.