My extraordinary day.

I was up and about very early this morn. I was on a mission. A mission to find Tufts. I was stuck in traffic, very nervous that I’d get lost, very nervous that I’d not find the parking garage, very nervous that I’d be late to my appointment with my oral surgeon. 8:30, I reached Boston but got lost.

”PLEASE do not yell at me.”

I called favorite officemate [who knows the Boston area very well].

“I’m lost. I don’t know where the hell I am.”

“Honey, where are you? What landmarks?”

”Oh wait a minute, I’m on State Street.”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THERE? IT’S NEAR CHINATOWN, LOOK FOR ASIANS. WHEN YOU SEE ASIANS, YOU ARE THERE.”

We hung up. I still could not find the Asians. The only Asian I saw was the one looking right back at me in my rearview mirror, and boy did she have sad eyes.

I signaled to the Cabbie next to me. I asked him where Tufts was, he was nice enough to let me follow him AND, the beautiful man made sure I found the place. He drove out of his way to make sure I reached my destination. Amen to that.

My oral surgeon [whom is the Dean of Tufts Dental School, and the man who will be performing my surgery] says that he will only be removing one wisdom tooth [the one that’s been bothering me]. The other one has grown into my jaw bone, and is not showing any “activity” to warrant a removal. AMEN TO THAT. My surgery is October 27.

I went back to work because I HAD to. Didn’t want to, but I HAD to. I did a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Then decided to leave the office for a small snack. As I left the office park I heard this loud rumbling noise. It sounded like a motorcycle was behind me. I looked. No motorcycle. I drove on. There was that damn rumbling again. I stopped my car again. As I reached the mall, I felt my car shake.

“Oh shit.”

I pulled into a parking spot and got out. There before me was the flattest tire I had ever seen. I panicked, called Sean. He wasn’t very helpful. I ended up calling Triple A. I stood next to my car like an idiot, the tow truck arrived. He waved at me. He was cute. He drove in with a Ford F150 [I find those trucks very sexy]. He got out of his truck, removed his Oakley’s and introduced himself. Then...then...he began to talk.

He had a severe stuttering problem [I know, I’m sorry. But he did. I felt bad for him]

Mr. Triple A driver was helpful. A little too, too, helpful…if you know what I mean.

We ended up towing my car to a tire place to have it fixed. It was a long, long ride, I tell you. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, or husband.

[For your information, I have left out all the stuttering parts of Mr. Triple A’s sentences]

“Now, I know it’s none of my business, but do you have a boyfriend or husband?”

“Yes, I have a boyfriend. I’m kinda mad at him for not coming out to help me.”

“Gee, if I was your boyfriend, I’d make sure I was there to help you.”

[Oh dear lord, what have I gotten myself into?]

Mr. Triple A had to make a few emergency stops to help a couple stranded people on our way to the tire place. When he left the truck, I conveniently called favorite officemate.

“L. Write this down. Are you writing this down? This is just in case I turn up missing. [name deleted] Towing Company. White Ford F150 Truck, with white vehicle strapped to it.”

“Got it. [Name deleted] Towing. White Truck. Emma, you’re an idiot. But, I’m writing this down.”

He got back in the truck and proceeded to tell me he liked going to the beach.

"Yeah, so I think I'm gonna go to the beach. Do you like the beach?"

"Yeah, when it's 90 degrees out."

Mr. Triple A conveniently pointed out that he had the same cell phone as mine. He also hinted that I could have his cell phone number. I laughed uncomfortably, showing my big chiclets, whilst saying under my breath, “Ooooh maaan.”

"I was joking about the cell phone number thing...Well, okay, I am serious...but."

More uncomfortable laughter.

I’m sorry but does Triple A make it a habit to hire towing companies that hit on women?

We finally arrived at the tire place. I handed him a 20, told him to keep the change.

I have a new tire, well, a new patched up tire. I’ll be complaining to the Office Park about the roads. It’s just too weird that I’ve had to replace two tires, then get another flat as I was leaving the office park.

Sorry for the long rant.