I am a creature of habit. I come home everyday from work, I change into my workout clothes, I eat my dinner which is lovingly prepared by Chef Henry, and then I exercise. I allow for a little wiggle room, and sometime I even — GASP — make plans on a weeknight, but typically this is what I do.
And god help me, I look forward to it ALL DAMN DAY.
So last night, when I was knee-deep in a Jillian Michaels’ Body Revolution cardio workout and someone started knocking on my door, I WAS FUCKING PISSED.
Of course, Henry and Chooch had gone to the grocery store and I would normally just ignore answering it. However, moments before this happened, I briefly glanced out the window and saw two women standing by Haley’s car, so I considered the possibility that it was either Haley or Blake. Maybe they needed someone to watch their kids or they were trying to borrow a cup of sugar, I don’t know. But they’re family after all, so I begrudgingly paused my workout in the middle of crab kicks and opened the door while sweat rolled into my eyeballs.
Too bad it wasn’t enough sweat to blind me because coming to face-to-face with Chooch’s nemesis Larry WAS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED. I mean, seriously, he nearly slumped down the side of the door and right into my house, that’s how close he was.
So, I’m stunned that it’s Larry, and he’s stunned because that’s how he always looks but also probably because I was literally soaking wet with sweat and my face was fire engine red.
“So, that woman hit that car over there—” he said, pointing to Haley’s car and this is when I noticed that the two women I saw minutes prior were not Haley and her mom but the perp and her daughter.
My eyes were darting back and forth from Larry to Haley’s car, and I was panting, not having yet come down from cardio, and I probably looked like I had just been interrupted disposing a body because I excel at BEING SUSPICIOUS.
“That’s not my car,” I huffed.
“I know, but I knocked over there and no one answered,” Larry replied, watching me wick away sweat from my face with my forearm.
“I was exercising,” I panted, and he just nodded because I’m pretty sure the whole block knows that I am almost always exercising.
Now the lady who hit Haley’s car was walking up my sidewalk. SHIT FUCK GODDAMMIT. This is not what I wanted to be doing on my Wednesday night during Exercise Hour!!
“Hi, I really don’t think there is any damage, but if you want to just go and look—” she started to say, and I curtly replied, “OK but it’s not my car, so…”
And now I’m outside, in my sweaty workout clothes, hair nearly 100% moist with perspiration, face pulled into a scowl. I looked at the mirror. It seemed fine. My reflection in said mirror, well, that was another story.
But I still attempted to knock on Blake and Haley’s door anyway, because this wasn’t my car and I didn’t want to make that call. Decisions are for the grownups!
NO ONE ANSWERED.
“You can come look at my mirror too — it’s fine. There’s literally no damage,” the Broad-Perp said as she strode away up the sidewalk to where she left her car. Meanwhile, her daughter was staring at me, probably judging my stinky-state, so I spat, “I was exercising.”
NOW, VARIOUS NEIGHBORS WERE COMING OUT OF THEIR HOUSES. MY FAVORITE THING EVER – BEING LOOKED AT BY THE NEIGHBORS. Then one of the Italian Brothers, the Shirtless One, came home and did this whole song and dance of pretending to walk to his house without rubber-necking, then gave up about halfway down the sidewalk and blatantly snooped.
While I was standing at the broad’s car, feigning interest in her no-damage mirror, HENRY AND CHOOCH CAME HOME FROM THE STORE. They parked across the street and as they waited to cross, I made frantic “come here” motions with my hand.
Henry shook his head no.
I waved franticlier,
Henry shook his head no again.
THEN HOT NAYBOR CHRIS CAME HOME AND WAS MILLING ABOUT TRYING TO HEAR WHAT WAS HAPPENING AND I JUST WANTED TO DIE OK.
“That’s the father-in-law of the car’s owner,” I said to the lady in a high-pitched voice, desperate for Henry to come and take the reins so I could go back to being blissfully irresponsible of all adult goings-on. Henry meandered over to see what was going on and then went over to knock on Blake’s door because I guess his knock is different from mine and Larry’s and will magically bring Blake to the door.
“I thought you said that was his car?” the Broad-Perp asked me.
“No, it’s his daughter-in-law’s,” I corrected.
“Oh…but he lives…with you…” she said, pointing to my side of the house, trying to piece it together.
“He’s your husband?”
“Eh,” I shrugged.
“Significant other,” she laughed, adjusting the elastic of her too-big gray sweatpants and I suddenly realized that I was still standing there talking about my personal life with some reckless driver so I did that thing that I do best which is turn and leave abruptly without even so much as an Excuse Me, Pardon Me. But before I could make it into the house, the daughter of one of the Italian Brothers had just returned home. She just recently opened a boutique in this spot on the Boulevard where four boutiques before hers failed. She gave me a pitiful smile, probably mentally styling me in some workout apparel with cliched girly slogans appliqued across the chest, like FRIYAY or YAAAAS QUEEN.
Maybe this could go on the town bulletin board!!!!! Ugh. I cracked the front door and slithered back into the house, never to be seen in public again.
Henry came in a few minutes later, after getting a hold of Blake via phone, who asked, “Is there noticeable damage? OK, then I don’t care” and that was that.
“TELL BLAKE I SAID THANKS A LOT FOR MAKING ME BE AN ADULT!” I screamed while doing jumping lunges. “I WAS SO PISSED! LARRY WAS LEERING AT ME AND IT TOTALLY RUINED MY WORKOUT AND I HATED HAVING TO TALK TO PEOPLE!”
Henry laughed and recounted the scene that played when he and Chooch drove past in the car:
“Oh shit, your mom’s outside,” Henry said with trepidation.
“Wow, who let her out?” Chooch mused.
And that was when they figured that Something Happened in order for me to have actually stepped outside to mingle with strangers.
But, I think the main takeaway here is STOP PARKING ON THE FUCKING STREET, PEOPLE!!!
