I have a new car. Trying to do the hybrid earth-friendly save-the-world kind of thing but still getting used to pushing the start button instead of turning a key and everything else that goes along with technological advances.
I had lunch with the gals from the office today. No big deal. We sat outside at a little bistro gossiping about our pick for Rachel Lindsay on The Bachelorette. (I was out of the running when she dumped Dean Unglert, my first choice and the next Bachelor in Paradise.) We toasted to kids going back to school soon, discussed the countdown to Labor Day shoe sales, and filled the hour with vanilla chatter. About halfway through, I got a text from Eric.
"Amy. Did you forget something when you went to lunch?"
Uh. No? Uh. Maybe? Uh. I don't know?
I responded with a quick "?" as I try not to be rude and on my phone when I'm at lunch or with friends.
"Go to the car."
Eric's text was clear, but come on. I was at lunch.
"I'm at lunch."
Warning: When your husband, out of the blue texts, "Go to...", seriously consider your actions if they are other than his request.
I jolted when I saw that. Jumped up, excused myself, and went out to the parking lot to my car. I didn't see anyone. Confused, I texted Eric back.
"Now what? I'm here."
It didn't take long before I went bright red.
"Look at the car. Is it running? Did you forget to turn it OFF before you went to lunch?"
OMG. The darn thing is so quiet, I didn't realize it WAS still on. Totally embarrassed, I scrambled to turn it off. Then I sat back in the driver's seat absolutely humiliated and wondering how Eric knew.
"OMG," I texted. "I can't believe I did that."
"Oh girl, somebody is getting spanked tonight!"
Before heading back to the restaurant, I called Eric, who was laughing hysterically. One of his sales people had seen my car running in the parking lot, nobody inside, and busted me with a phone call to my husband.
Think of me tonight, bloggers. I was pretty quiet during the rest of our lunch... because I wasn't eating with any of YOU! Vanilla friends are fine until you have a spanking hanging overhead and need the support of your other friends. Wish you were here.