"Is this your car, honey?"

As promised, I will now detail my weekend experience.

Let me preface this by saying that I used to get pedicures OFTEN. Pretty much biweekly. A couple of months ago, I went to a local nail salon to have one and it was a miserable experience: I waited forever, the girl spent little to no time on my feet, and I had to forfeit the special masks and scrubs because I made the mistake of shaving that morning and had killer razor burn. Silly, yes, but it was not what I'd expected and I vowed that was my last professional pedicure for a while.

Well, last week, I went to a new place for an eyebrow wax and fell in love with the joint. It was quaint, down-home, and CHEAP for their services, soooo I decided to make a pedi appointment for Saturday morning.

I arrive about 10 minutes early, prepared with my book and the absolute need to relax after a long work week. About half an hour later, I'm still waiting, but no biggie. I was into my story and the ladies there were real apologetic and nice. Suddenly, the sound of a horn honking blares through the lobby. We all look at each other in mass confusion, but mutter about it 'probably being the train' and go about our business. A couple of minutes pass and a lady comes in for her appointment and tells the front desk girl that 'someone is in the lot, blaring on her horn.' Of course I think nothing of it and go back to reading.

After a few more minutes, I realize there seems to be some hub-bub going on outside. People are in the lobby looking out the windows and I notice that they are looking in the direction of the lot where my car is parked. Great. I choose then to get up and investigate. I walk outside where I see the salon owner, (Diane, I later learn) and an elderly woman with a cane. They are standing a few feet from my car, next to a large black Cadillac. I start to feel a bit nervous and, sure enough, Diane looks up at me and asks, "Is this your car, honey?"

OF COURSE, the elderly lady had completely rammed into my car. OF COURSE. Before I am even able to assess the situation, the lady (I later learn her name is Ann) starts in on me: "You should be more careful. This was a careless parking job. You parked in the wrong place."

Um. Excuse me? Didn't YOU just hit MY car?

I should say here that this salon does NOT have a 'parking lot.' It has an unpaved, gravel lot in which everyone parks whatever way they can. There is a small handicapped 'parking' spot and I had parked about 10 feet to its left, at a slight angle. This was the only 'spot' other than the handicapped one that was open when I had arrived earlier. Believe me you, it was in no way blocking this lady's access to the handicapped area. If I felt comfortable posting the photo, you would easily see the many ways she could have parked WITHOUT hitting my car. Sigh.

So, I calm myself internally before going loco on this poor soul. See, when I encounter senile-ish older folk, I try very hard to imagine them as if they were my sweet old granny or grandmother, and I treat that person how I would like to see my sweet grandmothers treated. However, when the person becomes a grade-A JERK in a matter of seconds, all of my sweetness goes out the window. I never become rude, no no, but I do immediately write you off. And I did that with this old biddy. To further the nuttiness of this situation, after blaming my parking job for her negligent driving, she began to explain how 'out of it' she was 'because she was hit by lightning the day before.'

......What?

At this point, Diane starts to mouth "Call the law." (Haha, you know you're in the country when.....) I assumed then that she must know Ann's personality pretty well and was subtly indicating that this was not going to resolve itself easily. Meanwhile, Ann is blabbering about how she can take me to get my car fixed 'right this very minute.' Um, no. Instead, I take Diane's advice (and my own, really, but I did need that extra push to make the final decision) and called for the police to come make a report. I felt silly asking an officer to come out for something so trivial, but turns out, it was a good decision. Once in his presence, this lady starts blaming me again, and it was worth every minute of feeling silly to hear him tell her very frankly that in no way was I to blame. It was obvious. I felt bad for her for a minute, because I can only imagine just how many times her family has suggested she stop driving. In my opinion, she shouldn't be allowed to drive, and I'm betting this small incident will be the straw that broke the camel's back based on some of the things she was saying.

Anyway, after all was said and done with the officer and information exchange, I went inside for my pedicure. It was less than satisfying, in part because of the stress of the car thing (which again was NOT a big deal. It will be an easy paint fix only) and because the pedi-girl was new - one week into her job there - and just didn't seem quite 'right' in her pedicuring. New word alert! Whatever. I left to go home and just resolved...again...that professional pedicures are overrated. I will just settle on my at-home pedis I guess. Kind of a bummer, but I suppose if it saves me money, can be done in the comforts of my own home, and performed without the risk of infection or car damage, it's a good thing.

To shift gears just briefly, I had a short dream last night that my husband left me for another woman. It was ridiculous. I often wonder why dreams like that seem to pop in every now and then. I can't recall the last time I had one like it, but I know I have had them before. It was bizarre. To make it even crazier, when I woke up this morning, I discovered he had moved to our guest room overnight because he was not feeling well and did not want to disturb me. Aw. Maybe his movement getting out of bed stirred up the dream. Either way, those types of dreams are unpleasant, even if they are completely absurd.

I absolutely have to get offline now and get some stuff done. I feel like blah today :(