A pretty, young mother
and teenage daughter
stood in line behind me.
Mom went on and on
about being in town from
Minnesota and staying
at the local resort for a
week and sunbathing by
the pool in 65 degree
weather and soaking up
the sun while all the
locals wander around in
Michelin Man coats. She
didn’t say that. She said
something like heavy winter
coats. I inserted that
here because the down jack-
ets which are all the rave
remind me of the tire com-
mercial. I asked the dau-
ghter if they were Scand-
inavian, thinking I could
mention my Swedish her-
itage and use my best im-
pression of the Swedish
chef from the Muppets.
My kids loved it when
I talked in Swedish jibb-
erish. She said they were
German. I heard her ask
her mother how they
were going to get back
to the resort with all
the groceries. I went
to my car and as I was
leaving saw them walk-
ing out of the store carry-
ing big paper bags. Snow-
bird to the rescue. I
lowered the window
and offered to take them
back to the resort in as
much as I lived across
the street from it, but
that someone would
have to sit in the back-
seat with the Chocolate
Lab. (Are you beginning
to see how this was
a major mistake, just
fraught with all kinds
of really bad scenarios?
I hadn’t until just at
that moment and thought
to myself, WHAT! ARE
YOU NUTS!) A really,
really big warning sign
jumped into my mind, one
I drummed into my kids’
heads: NEVER ACCEPT A
RIDE FROM A STRANGE MAN!
Mom said no, that her
sister lived right down
the street. I said okay,
have a nice day and drove
away. Mom said bye doggie.
I looked in the rearview
mirror and saw the daugh-
ter checking out my car’s
license plate — Michigan.
Michigan car, Arizona
residence. Sure. I wanted
go back and assure them
I was a harmless, old
snowbird with a wuss of
a dog even if he is ninety-
five pounds and goes by
the name Bruno (just kidd-
ing. I wouldn’t have said
that). I didn’t say any-
thing. I didn’t go back.
Hey, I may be stupid but
I’m not dumb. I just gulped,
began to sweat in the sixty-
five degree weather and
drove. I thought of Kafka,
Camus, Sartre and Mariska
Hargitay. I waited
all afternoon for Law
and Order: Special Vic-
tums Unit to knock
on the door. I’m
trying to find some-
thing humorous
here. Seriously.