I like to think of myself a kind and caring person. I overthink most situations which is a compulsive idiosyncrasy that conveniently lends itself to a well developed ability to empathize. In short, I don’t often think of myself as an jerk. I want to be nice. I like making people happy but sometimes I fail…I fail miserably and last Friday was monumental.
It was 6:25pm. My husband and I had hastily kissed the children good night, given the babysitter some last minute instructions, piled into the car and were ready to, for once, arrive on time to our appointment in Brandon. A shadowy figure hulked by our already running vehicle sending shivers of annoyance up my spine. “Oh crap,” I said out loud.
“What?!” Trevor inquired, swivelling his head to to left. “Crap,” he repeated as we both locked eyes on the man in the trench coat letching at our door.
It was the insurance salesman. A most unwelcome visitor. He always arrives unannounced, has the absolute worst timing and never takes no for an answer. He frequents our home far more often than and any other pedlar and always, ALWAYS succeeds in making me instantly grumpy.
“He hasn’t noticed us yet,’ I whispered, fearful that my voice would carry through the steel car door. I felt like a feral animal cornered by conservation officers. I was desperate to escape- to get away from the shifty proposals and the weak declines. Maybe, just maybe we could get away. I pulled the car into reverse.
The salesman heard the shift and realizing we were about to escape. He turned towards our retreating vehicle and advanced on us like T 1000 from Terminator 2.
Victory was mine! We were going to get away. The salesman was now flailing his arms in the air, “Stop!” I saw him shout as I waved farewell.
BANG!
I backed straight into his half ton.
“Pull forward and turn the car off,” my husband hissed. The words barely registered in my instantly humbled brain.
I just hit the salesman’s car! “#@*&!,” Now I had to talk to him.
Fortunately there was no damage. The salesman seemed confused about the whole situation and I thanked my lucky stars. He’d seen the babysitter walking past the window and couldn’t understand how the owner of the house could be both inside and outside at the same time. Finally, he decided to pursue the figure he’d seen through the kitchen window and after graciously moving his truck out of the way, he allowed us passage to retreat.
As we drove up the lane, still reeling from the near miss, I watched him return to the house and knock on the door. He was back on his game, primed and ready to ply our unsuspecting babysitter with questions about her plans for accidental death or injury. He was destined to be disappointed and I was just lucky not to have a big dint in the back of the family car. Some Friday night adventure. This was the universe giving me a very obvious warning…don’t be a jerk.
Turning Ground 