How I Deal with Life.....

How I Deal with Life.....

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Earl Grey Tea is as Good as a Georgia Driver's License, It Seems



Today I was stopped at one of those God awful driver’s license check roadblocks. But I was stopped by a very GORGEOUS Georgia State Patrolman. I swear he had the prettiest smile and teeth I have ever seen. In addition to this lovely patrolman, there were about four other patrolmen milling about (They weren’t so cute.. and why do they ALL leave every patrol car's blue lights flashing at driver's license roadblocks? One set of lights will do. I promise. We don't need six flashing sets of lights. What if I were an epileptic?). 
Anyway...

I stop the car, roll down my window, and Mr. Pretty Smile Patrolman flashes his pearly whites and ever so politely asks to see my license.

 BACKGROUND INFO: I carry all my stuff around in a huge bag lady Barnes & Noble tote. It contains saline for my contacts, my journal, a notebook, my ever present book,  a book light, my recent copy of Sun magazine, three pens, two highlighters, pair of emergency glasses, teabags, sanitizing wipes, camera, cell phone charger, bottle of water, lip glosses in four colors.. Well, you get the picture: I carry a LOT of shit around with me. My teeny tiny wallet was somewhere in that mess.



My mom, who bless her heart was in the passenger seat, pulls my bag out of the back seat and starts rummaging in the tote for my wallet. She keeps saying, “You don’t have it”. I keep insisting I do have it. I tell the waiting patrolman, “I do have it” and I grab the tote from mom and start pulling everything out one item at a time, dumping everything in Mom’s lap. Cars are lining up behind me. The patrolman says, “I’ll just check your tag while you look” and he walks to the back of my vehicle. I am still pulling stuff out of my tote and I can’t find my wallet. Anywhere. 

Mr. Patrolman comes back to my window and by this time I am frustrated and embarrassed. I tell him. “I’ll just pull over to the side. I know I have it”. He  says, “Look, just show me something.. anything so my boss will think I saw it”. I hold up an Earl Grey teabag, he smiles and said, “Works for me. Have a good day, M’am”, and waves me on. 



After I roll up the window, Mom states, “He sure had a pretty smile. Very nice teeth too”. I agree and hand her the Earl Grey teabag for safekeeping.

Mom and I then stop off I-75 at  Garden Ridge in Stockbridge, Georgia. For those who are Garden Ridge virgins, Garden Ridge is decorating Mecca.  It is a huge home and garden store that makes me spend all kinds of money I don’t have. It has everything: six foot tall tin coats of armor, sunglassed pink flamingos, electric tennis racket bug zappers, ceramic smiling frogs, cat shaped bird houses, big bellied lawn Buddhas, seven aisles of throw pillow (yes.. seven aisles), and framed "art" of varying likenesses of James Dean and Audrey Hepburn. 











 I only buy one container of bamboo scented oil, a  dog shaped wall hanging, a lime green fleece to cover a bulletin board, and a bag of hummus chips and a bag of tomato/basil chips (yep.. they have food too!). And when I swipe my credit card at the checkout the cashier doesn't even ask to see my bag of Earl Grey tea..





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