$5.37!
That's what the
kid behind the counter at Taco Bell said to
me.
I dug into my pocket and pulled out some
lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly
Rancher.
Having already handed
the
kid a five-spot, I started to head back out to the truck
to grab some change
when the kid with the Elmo
hairdo said the hardest thing anyone has ever said to
me.
He said, "It's OK. I'll just give you the
senior citizen discount."
I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard
the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me.
"Only $4.68" he said
cheerfully.
I stood
there stupefied. I am 56, not even 60 yet?
A mere
child!
Senior citizen?
I took my
burrito and walked out to the truck wondering what was wrong with
Elmo.
Was he
blind?
As I sat
in the truck, my blood began to boil.
Old?
Me?
I'll show
him, I thought.
I opened the door
and headed back inside. I strode to the
counter,
and there he was waiting with a
smile.
Before I could say a word, he held
up something
and jingled it in front of
me,
like I could be
that easily distracted!
What am I
now?
A toddler?
"Dude! Can't get too far without
your car keys, eh?"
I stared with
utter disdain at the keys.
I began to
rationalize in my mind!
"Leaving
keys behind hardly makes a man elderly!
It could happen to
anyone!"
I turned
and headed back to the truck.
I slipped the key
into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn.
What
now?
I checked my keys and tried
another.
Still nothing.
That's when
I noticed the purple
beads hanging from my rear view
mirror.
I
had no purple
beads hanging from my rear view
mirror.
Then, a few
other objects came into focus:
The car seat in
the back seat.
Happy Meal toys spread all over
the floorboard.
A partially eaten dough nut on
the dashboard.
Faster than
you can say ginkgo
biloba, I flew out of
the alien vehicle.
Moments
later I was speeding out of the parking lot,
relieved to
finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my
life.
That is when I
felt it, deep
in the bowels of my stomach: hunger!
My stomach
growled and churned, and I reached to grab my
burrito,
only it was nowhere to be
found.
I swung the
truck around,
gathered my
courage,
and strode back
into the restaurant one final time.
There Elmo
stood, draped in youth and black nail
polish.
All I could think
was,
"What is the world
coming to?"
All I could
say was, "Did I leave my food and drink in
here"?
At this point I
was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my
vehicle,
and then go straight home and apply
for Social Security benefits.
Elmo had no
clue.
I walked back out
to the truck,
and suddenly a young lad came up
and tugged on my jeans to get my attention.
He
was holding up a drink and a bag.
His mother
explained,
"I think you left this in
my truck by mistake."
I took the
food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly
apologized.
She offered
these kind words:
"It's OK. My grandfather
does stuff like this all the time."
All of this
is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40 mph
zone.
Yessss, I was racing some punk kid in a
Toyota Prius.
And no, I told
the officer, I'm not too old to be driving this
fast.
As I walked
in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the
hall.
I handed her a
bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket.
I promptly
sat
in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a
blankey.
The good
news was that I had successfully found my way home.
John