Email arrives, it's from Mo. Mo's my golfing buddy, a great guy and running for state rep from Kaneohe. I had helped him write and produce some videos and other material for his campaign. Mo's got some other buddy who's taking him to the UH vs. USC game- Tonight!, and he's offering me the fourth ticket. Great seats, 10th row, 40 yard line on the shady (preferred) side of the stadium. I get clearance from CINCHOUSE. I get to go.
3 pm.
Leave work a tad early, scoot over to the NEX to buy a UH hat so I don't get beat to smithereens by anybody because I look more like a typical USC fan than a typical UH fan. I happen past the nice hawaiian shirts section. I like the Tori Richard shirts, but they're so expensive... usually $90-100... I look at a couple. They've got sale tags on them, obviously wrong- they've been mismarked at 29.99. I immediately go into shady Jon mode, looking around out of the corners of my eyes as I surreptitiously grab a half dozen erroneously marked shirts. Saleslady approaches. I act cool. She comes right up to me. Uh oh. As I prepare to deliver a killing strike, she speaks:
"can you believe that price!"
"uh... no... I kinda thought they were mismarked"
"nope, that's our labor day weekend sale"
"o... nice"
So I bought 6 of them, although I probably would have bought more if I thought I was getting away with something.
4pm
After driving around forever, I park and walk down to the stadium to meet Mo & co. Everyone is having cell phone issues- apparently 50 thousand cell phones in a small area are hard on the network.
5pm.
We're in the stadium, almost to our seats. They're about to play the national anthem before kickoff, so we all stop and it's kinda quiet. I hear my phone chirp. I take a look. New voicemail, but no missed call. I call my voicemail.
"You have one new message, Received at 4:21 pm"... that's 39 minutes ago...
It's my wife... crying....
"Jon... got
Zounds! She's in trouble, and probably been calling me.. and it's been almost 40 minutes!!! Gaaah!
I call back... riiiing(beep)... riiiiing(beep)... means she's on the other line? I leave a message, say bye to Mo and I'm running out of the stadium.
Hero Daddy mode- ENGAGE!
Now, to diverge for a moment... I'm one of those guys with a bit of a hero complex. The problem is, when you fall in love and marry a rather independent and relatively even-keeled woman, you rarely get the opportunity to come swooping in with your cape aflutter and save the day. So there was a lot of pent-up hero fuel in me ready to get burned.
Now, it's a mile to my car, (I google earthed it later). Uphill.
I'm running out of the stadium and here's my thought process:
"you should probably run pretty fast here."
"but I'm wearing slacks and dress shoes and I'd look like an idiot or a criminal"
"so what, she's been in a car accident"
"meh, OK. Let's do this. screw you brain."
"yeah. what's the point of all that running crap if you don't use it when you need it, let's set a speed record here"
so I did. I booked it up that hill like I stole something. I swear to you it took me 7 minutes flat and I had to stop for a red light. Hundreds of people in cars watching me, I kept my eyes down and my legs pumping.
Got to the car, got in. hit the road. Sweating like tiger woods in church. My AC only works when it's cool outside, never in the heat of the afternoon. It's great like that.
Calling again... riiiing(beep).... riiiing (beep)... what the..?
Ambulance goes screaming past me in the other direction. Not helpful.
Get ahold of Kate. She got a call too, she'll get to the boys before me. (they have to be picked up by 5:30 or we get charged $5.00 and are riddled with enormous parental guilt)
Calling Bekah. Sending texts. Driving poorly.
5:16 pm.
My phone rings.
"are you OK??"
"yeah...I'm OK."
"OK I'm on my way home."
"oh... no Kate can get the boys. go to the game."
"ummm... you were in an accident- where are you?"
"in the driveway. I've been on the phone with state farm- that's why I didn't click over"
"ummm..."
"Yeah I figured you'd know I was OK because I was on my phone"
"ummm... all I had to go on was a garbled phone message where you're crying... so...."
"o... sorry"
"that's OK... I guess I'm not mad or anything, still just thrilled you're OK."
"Ok"
"be home soon. I'm very, very sweaty. hug me like I'm your hero please."
She got a big sweaty hug when I got home. Very sweaty.
The truck will be OK eventually. It was the other guys' fault.
And I got a sweet deal on some shirts and a good interval workout. Good adventure.
No comments:
Post a Comment