Wednesday, June 27, 2012

You May Want to Turn Off Your Speakers

I apologize for the quality of this clip art. But, whoa! Bee playing horn! Be still, my heart.
As the younger sister of (literally) the leader of the band, I have spent my life trying to blend into the background, to not make waves, to go unnoticed. But because I work in public relations (I know! The irony!) this isn't always possible, so I've learned to pretend to be gregarious. This gregarious facade is a ruse.

I'm bashful, is what I'm trying to say. And I try to be dignified. So do you know what the bashful and dignified person's nightmare is? I do.

It's when you leave the library, and for some reason your keyless entry clicker doesn't unlock the car, but since it's 107 degrees (no, I am not kidding) you've left the windows rolled partway down. Problem solved! Just stick your arm through the window and unlock that baby!

HONK! (flash) HONK! (flash)  HONK! (flash) HONK! (flash)  HONK! (flash)

You desperately punch the alarm button on the keyless entry clicker, but (remember?) the clicker isn't working so you drive through campus to get back to the house.

HONK! (flash) HONK! (flash)  HONK! (flash) HONK! (flash)  HONK! (flash)

There you see Husband just leaving after lunch and frantically wave him back to the driveway, where the honking finally and inexplicably stops.

"Sorry, honey! I don't know what happened, but the alarm wouldn't go off. All better now! Bye!"

And so Husband drives away, and you drive back to the office, where you turn off the car and open the door and...

HONK! (flash) HONK! (flash)  HONK! (flash) HONK! (flash)  HONK! (flash)

You drive back home again, mouthing the words "It's okay! It's my car!" to all the people standing on their porches and speed-dialing the police, run upstairs to find the extra set of keys, hit the alarm button and reassure the car it's not being stolen so it will BE QUIET, then wait for your ears to stop ringing.

That's the bashful and dignified person's nightmare. Being That Person.

And That Person? Yesterday, she was I.

1 comment:

  1. It must have been the heat . . . I walked outside to hear my van doing the same routine. Only I had a smiling boy beside me (to whom I'd given the keys to run to the van to get something) who said, "You mean you didn't hear that while we were in the store? I pushed the panic button when I handed them back to you." (somehow with complete innocence!)