Are you sitting down? Seriously. I don't want to be responsible for anybody fainting dead away in shock, and knockin' his noggin on the cold hard floor. At least squat down on your heels, so there's less distance for gravity to accelerate your noggin.
No, I don't have fantastic news to share. Quite the opposite. Though I WOULD like to announce, to soften the blow, perhaps, that yesterday I won $150 on two scratch-off tickets, and today I won $160 on four scratch-off tickets. You gotta play to win, you know. Anyhoo...back to the tragedy that befell Val this morning.
Don't you go worrying about Puppy Jack. He made his trip to the vet, and he's just fine. Maybe a story on that later. And don't you go worrying about Val, who made her trip to the doctor, and is just fine. Maybe a story on that later, too. Nope. The tragedy happened between the vet appointment for Jack and the doctor appointment for Val.
Everything was hunky dory. We arrived at 7:55 for Jack's appointment. Were out by 8:20. Stopped by a convenience store not frequented frequently by Val for lottery purposes, just because we were passing by, and she had told The Pony this morning that she was going to cash in some winners and get more there on the way home. Thus the windfall for today's lottery take.
Yes. We were firing on all cylinders. From that convenience store, we headed for Backroads. We took a left at the four-way stop beside The Pony's language teacher's mother's furniture store, just to ride through the industrial park and miss a stoplight and go past the new convenience store site that is still under construction. Then we hit the lake road, because who doesn't want to drive by a lake when the morning is brand-spankin'-new, with sunshine all around, and the sky a particularly pretty shade of blue, and a little puppy chillin' on The Pony's lap, and the days of The Forever Vacation are stretched out ahead like a never-ending paper ribbon of those rainbow candy dots?
After we passed the lake, we pulled up to the drive-thru mailbox (so as not to smell a dead mouse) in order to mail the phone bill. I waited to pull out onto the street so a very large semi tractor trailer truck had room to round the bend by the Montessori school. Wouldn't you know it, that truck was marked with a little triangle showing BLASTING MATERIALS. So Val's courtesy paid off.
From the post office road, we headed to the gas station chicken store for Val's 44 oz Diet Coke. The magical elixir came early today, my friends, due to the 3:00 doctor appointment, which was sure to drag into the evening hours. A Diet-Coked-up Val is a kinder, gentler Val. I waited at the stoplight for traffic to clear, then made my right-on-red (cautioning The Pony that Oklahoma may not have such a law as Missouri) and turned immediately right again into the gas station chicken store parking lot, and pulled into my rightful parking space, first one, closest to the building.
Yes, my friends, the day couldn't get any better! I'm surprised that Brady Bunch song, "It's a Sunshine Day," wasn't playing on my Sirius XM 70s station. I grabbed my correct change, bade a short goodbye to The Pony and the puppy, and headed inside, my heart quickening with the thought of my 44 oz Diet Coke.
Two trucks were unloading their goods. One of the deliverymen waited at the counter with his bill of lading, ready to hand it to the new little red-headed clerk dude who only yesterday had sold me a $50 winner. I stepped past him and pulled my 44 oz foam cup from the dispenser. I pushed it under the ice chute (not too much) and then set it under the Diet Coke lever.
A paper sign taped across the Diet Coke logo said OUT!
Hick in a tuxedo pumping a handcar! What's a Val to do when the Diet Coke is out?
I settled for the lesser cola, and had a Diet Pepsi.
The apopadopalyspe is near.