In general, I love being competent. I have little time for the helpless female role. The other day, however, I wished I were more of the damsel in distress type of girl.
It was snowing and freezing, but I was on a mission. I needed to get to Wal-Mart, the doggie park for my darling Pup's don't-drive-me-crazy exercise, Sam's Club, the grocery store, and the library. All those stops and a two and a half hour window in which to do them. Not a problem. Until I got to my car.
Stuck on ice in the driveway behind my landlord's van.
Three flat tires.
No windshield wiper fluid.
Gas gauge hovering above E.
At this point the damsel in distress music should have begun, but I pointed out earlier I'm not really the type. I put pup in the car, switched my heels for those infamous snow boots, and chipped out the snow and ice to get traction to get around the van.
I knew there was an air pump at the gas station a block down on the corner. I inched the car there only to be greeted by a large "Out of Order" sign covering the air pump.
Sigh.
I filled up with gas and topped off the wiper fluid. Then I inched back out onto the road. I knew there was another service station three blocks up. I very, very slowly drove that way. The man in the car behind me was less than appreciative of this fact and did not seem to care one whit that my tires were flat. He honked his horn at me. Continuously.
For three blocks.
This is why I sometimes think being competent is overrated. DH would never have let this sort of thing happen if I were the helpless maiden type. He would have puffed out his manly chest, checked everything, and taken care of all problems beforehand so his dainty little wife wouldn't have to dirty her pretty hands. I explained this theory to my neighbor and revealed my new plan to be helpless.
He smiled and in his darling Polish accent informed me, "That's good idea Q, but no one who has met you will buy it."
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