I Still Have My Legs

The glory years. 2006 road trip to OKC. A shadow of what once was.

I woke up today, same as yesterday. Did some sewing and prepared to go downtown to get my taxes done. I walk outside burrito in one hand, big bag of clothes for a friend in the other and look up to find my car is gone. Maybe i parked on the other ... GONE. I'm not crazy. My hankie from last nights Ash Wednesday service was laying where my car vanished: Like the rapture movies where theologians debate whether people vanish with or without their clothes when Jesus returns- They vanish without. The hankie was still there and assured me I wasn't loosing it. Numb, I told my room mate. Numb, I told my land lady. I still feel a bit numb, but it's starting to hit me.
Car-less. In the 21st Century.
Better yet car-less in Los Angeles.
Impossible? Maybe. I will soon find out.
My room mate said I was handling things very well considering. Honestly I'm still in shock. I don't want to commit to a feeling until I know it's a done deal. Till they find my lil Civic broken and hollowed out on a street corner in the middle of Compton. Luckily I don't have a job to worry about driving to, and lucky I don't have a big insurance check coming in to dig me out of this hole. Yes I said DON'T. With everything else going to hell in the economy I'm jobless (meaning I have no need for a car) and I'm pretty sure my insurance company doesn't have the money to replace something like a whole car (even though I have payed them for the past 13 years since I got it!) I called. The insurance lady gave her sympathies but I couldn't help but feel in the next room they were ordering balloons and a chocolate cake with sprinkles. Especially when she said, "Oh honey, your coverage doesn't cover anything." I could see her giving a thumbs up to everyone in the office! Not our problem! "Hope your evening gets better. Goodbye." P-A-R-T-Y!
I turned on Oprah as I was eating a late late lunch. Military men who had lost limbs and been injured in the line of duty. Really? Really. I don't have it that bad. I'm eating my second burrito of the day, this one with every random left over in the fridge doused in Sarracha Sauce so I can't taste whatever is going on between those tortillas. Munch munch. "I lost both my legs." I want to cry. I don't want to cry for my car, I want to cry for the man with no legs. It's not fair. If anything in this world is relative it is our problems. Mine are feeling pretty small at the moment.
My room mate says, "You want a ride to the grocery store with me?" I look at my leftover-cornucopia-burrito and say "Yes."
At least I still have friends.
At least I still have my legs.
I'll let you know what happens to my car....
(to be continued)