Red sedans…

…. okay, so now all I remember is the last digit of the license was 0 and it was letters like mine (BC7) … which wasn’t a priority anyway… but I’m tooling down Urbana road and this little car is backing out of the driveway — okay, there’s room, you can actually do that around… no, you’re just backing clear all the way across the road.   Your window is down a crack so I say something like “You might try watching where you’re going.”   You startle and say, “I’m sorry,” but you really look like … in hindsight, like poor people on bicycles really aren’t worth your time (my car’s a whole lot nicer than yours but who’s counting).   So I say “It’s a good thing I was watching, because you sure weren’t,” and you whine “I said I was sorry!”     I finished with “try not to kill anybody today” as she pulled away.   I’m sure she thinks I’m a mentally challenged whatever inconveniencing her day… the condition of the car spoke of previous incompetence.

Of course, other more typical interactions — turning left on Main and yes, the fellow in the sedan waited for me and waved before pulling out…

… but no, I didn’t see my keys.  Matter can’t be created or destroyed and I distinctly remember dropping them into my bag before leaving and noting that to self (I didn’t have the ‘hands’ to get to the pocket they usually go into).   Couldn’t find them at work.   Remembered on ride in (scrutinizing shoulders, though … I’m pretty good at discerning when something jumps off the bike onto the road. Yes, I was mindful of every pothole & rough spot 🙂

Remembered that … turning the bicycl upside down and shaking it has worked.   Sigh, not this time …. keys still utterly AWOL.

… no longer… they’d gotten into the toaster pastry box in the bag.   So when student asked for poptarts I picked up the box and it jangled.   🙂

(and… the letters were actually exactly like mine.   When I’m leaving earlier, the car’s still in the driveway…)


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