My mother and I went to PetSmart, because I thought it was important that she see me in my natural habitat. And before I get to the part where my car got a mind of its own and smashed into a hapless PetSmart worker, I have to tell you I had my first "June is a huge, huge blog celebrity" sighting.
We were walking in, mom and me, when this cute woman carrying a six-foot bag of avocado dog food said, "June?"
And the ridiculous part is, I said, "Yes?"
My name is not really June, you know. But there I was. All saying, "Yes?" like that's who I am.
Did you even know they made avocado dog food? My dogs always want my avocados when I eat them, but just last night I caught Edsel sticking his giant anteater snout into my grape juice, so they aren't that picky about whatever I have. It all looks good to them.
Anyway, it turns out this faithful reader figured we'd run into each other at the PetSmart one day because she knew from my posts that I live in this neighborhood. We talked about the avocado dog food, and then I craved guacamole, and then I asked her what kind of dog she had and it turns out she has two greyhounds, so I totally invited myself over to meet them.
"...Okay," she said, adjusting the 20-foot bag so it shielded her from me a little.
"GREAT!" I said brightly. "CALL ME!"
June. Creepy-crawling faithful readers since Monday.
So my mother and I purchased Edsel and Tallulah food and left PetSmart without further incident, and by the way I do not mean that I have killed my dogs, dried them into jerky, and am now selling them at PetSmart as food. Although that would not be a bad idea now that I have to pay for some hapless worker's injured car, and has anyone ever taken longer to get to the story, do you think?
We got back home and my mother said, "I can really smell the kitty litter box."
"No you can't," I said, irritated. "It's brand-new litter from this weekend, and there's only one cat now."
"Yes, I can. ...Oh! It's awful!" she said, wrinkling her nose.
Now at PetSmart! Mom kibble! Dried-up bits of June's mom, in a bag and in convenient take-along pouches!
So I got back in the car to get cat litter, while mom read a book. Outside, because of the overwhelming cat-urine odor.
At PetSmart this time there was a darling sweet patootie Pit Bull/Boxer puppy, named Tucker. He was 14 weeks old. Oh, I petted his big wide pitty head, and I talked to him, and I admired him, and I had no idea all hell was breaking loose with my automobile out in the parking lot.
I lugged that litter through the lot, and I saw a yellow Bug had ROLLED BACKWARDS from its rightful spot ACROSS THE AISLE and into the poor car in the next row.
Oh, please don't let that be my yellow Bug, I thought, horrified.
Guess what. There really aren't that many yellow Bugs in Greensboro.
I have been driving a stick shift my entire driving career. I have no idea how my car could have gotten into this predicament. I mean, it must have been in neutral to have done so, but how in the Sam Holy Hill did I leave it in neutral? Did my purse hit it? I would have had to be pushing in the clutch at the same time. What contortion was I in when I left the car that this happened?
Shaking, I got in my ridiculous sideways car and moved it to a spot. My car had no damage but the other person's silver Honda was smashed to bits. Oh.
Then I had the angel/devil moment. Leave a note or drive away like a maniac?
The truck next to me was some kind of pest-control service truck and it had eyeballs all over it. I guess they were supposed to represent eyes of the various pests said service would gleefully murder. Anyway, it was just like that billboard in The Great Gatsby. I knew even if no one was watching me at that moment, my CONSCIENCE would know.
"My car rolled into your car while I was shopping." I wrote. "I am SO SORRY! I have insurance." (Oh, won't Marvin be mad he agreed to pay my car insurance through the summer, I thought.) I left my phone number, and waited a long time for the person to emerge, finally figuring out he or she must work in the strip mall, because no one needs to shop for that long.
I wish I could play for you the angry message I got from the girl who emerged from her 12-hour day as a vet tech at PetSmat's vet office to find her Honda all smashed in. Oh! She hates me. HATES. MEEEE. And she thinks Ima scam her somehow, even though I was honest enough to leave a note with my phone number and all.
The police were phoned, a report was written, I was arrested, I did hard time in the can. Man, a few years in the joint changes a person.
Okay, a report was written and it ended there. The thing is, I really didn't know if my car had MADE all that damage because my car was so unscathed, so I didn't want to leave a ton of info about myself, but apparently this lead her to think I am Scammy Scammerstein and I go around smashing cars for yucks.
I did learn she has a Great Pyreneese.
I totally invited myself to her house to meet him.
