OK, everyone knows I spent the night Thursday with the Pink Professor. We had a lovely time, with the wine, cheese, and sardines. He took a long shower and the night sailed by.
Maybe I was a little tired Friday morning, although to be truthful I didn't feel like it. I'm trying to think of what I could blame the near accidents on. Actually, really, it seems like the other guys were all at fault, so I really shouldn't be beating myself up about it at this point.
It gave me a bunch of reasons to think of fate, that's for sure. Tagging on to an old radio show I used to listen to, called "Diary of Fate." The premise of the show, just to be brief about it, was that the "little things" of life change your fate; or, rather, that Fate personified is using the little things to guide you toward your deserved destiny. It might be a tiny patch of ice that you slip on. Fate says, "It was a little thing," as he methodically makes sure you die. Look it up on the internet, the episodes are available, and it's a very entertaining show.
Anyway, I was thinking of that. The Pink Professor and I were going out for breakfast. We wanted to go to a particular place. OK, here we go, we're driving along, when suddenly there's an ambulance speeding toward us. We're not in the lane closest to the side of the road, so we have to edge over in the lane that has traffic that's for the most part already pulled over. Then a firetruck, seconds later, and the same thing. As we're getting ready to go, the guy next to us, in a van, doesn't see us and almost plows into my car. Close call #1.
We get to the restaurant and we're going for a good parking place, right up close. Suddenly this other guy starts backing up and looks like he's bound to plow into us. I lay on the horn and he immediately came to a stop. Now we have a quandary. Do we go into the restaurant the same time as him and have him glaring at us all through the meal (he had his wife with him, and since he would have justified the incident as my fault, she'd be glaring at us too.) So I buzzed around the parking lot, to the Pink Professor's consternation, and just about collided with a guy coming from the road onto the parking lot. Close calls #2 and #3.
At this point, I'm vocally alluding to the "Diary of Fate" show, filling in the P.P. on its themes, which he'd never heard of. Plus, I'm trying to keep track of the road as we headed for an alternate restaurant. I told him we were totally out of our "fate stream" and that we'd have to be extra careful about everything between that moment and the time that we reentered it. Because, however you look at it, stuff at this point shouldn't have been happening.
We went to the second restaurant. A guy is pulling out of a parking space. My extra vigilance tells me he might've plowed into us if I hadn't been watching so closely. But I was on to his tricks and stopped in plenty of time. I'm watching the fate stream!
Nothing happened during the meal, all was well.
Then, this morning, Saturday, after I had spent the evening in my own home, apart from the Pink Professor, I went over and picked him up. We were going to go out two mornings in a row, kind of unusual. But I told him everything with the matters of fate were squared away, at least insofar as I could determine. It's a matter of rotating Chinese metal balls, manipulating a few yarrow sticks, flipping pennies, and putting a wet finger up in the wind. All was well.
So we were headed to the first restaurant, the one we intended to go to in the first place. We got inside the restaurant, and wouldn't you know it? The guy from the incident the day before! He came over to our table and announced loudly that he figured he'd see me the next day, and that he was still a little pissed off about what happened. This is unbelievable, I know. His wife had a look of ire and embarrassment all at the same time.
He said something to the effect of he knew who I was, that he'd been asking around about me, that he knew I wrote this blog, and a whole bunch of other stuff that rang true. I explained that all I had done was lay on the horn trying to prevent an accident. He said that any accident that involves a vehicle being rear-ended is the fault of the guy behind it. I countered with 'That's true, but it's not true if the guy behind is sitting still and the guy in front is in motion.' He accused me of being a lawyer want-a-be, and we appeared to be at a stalemate.
Finally, before we took our seat and tried to enjoy our meal, he told me he knew I had a little blond colored dog and what her name was, Underbrush. That really bothered me! And still, even as I type it, I'm shaking. I've been keeping an extra close watch on her all day. (He must have read it on the blog. What a crappy world we live in when a guy can Google your dog's name!)
But the morning was good beyond that. No more near misses. Our breakfast went well. The guy and his wife ate on one side of the restaurant, we were across the room.
The immortal words of the character "Fate" from the show ... I'll close with ... "Fate plays no favorites. It could happen to you!"
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