Wait, that was lucky

Well, I guess not anymore.

I fully recognize that I am upset way out of proportion to the crime I am about to describe.  And I also acknowledge that I probably would not be this upset if I hadn’t spent yesterday flat on my back with the stomach flu, forced to drink Sprite.  I hate Sprite.  But those are the extenuating circumstances I am dealing with here, and I am upset.  Comma, very.

So, today I sent Tom to the grocery store to pick up a few last minute things.  When he came home he told me he had cleaned out my car.  I know he meant well, but this is not a good thing.  And then he says to me “I found the parking pass from the Speedway Methodist Church”.  I told him “yeah, I was saving that, it’s lucky”.  Well, he threw it out. He threw out the lucky parking pass I have been saving.  He threw out the parking pass from the US Grand Prix at Indianapolis.  And to make matters worse, he threw it out in the Cub Foods parking lot.  So I can’t even get it back.  Actually I am half tempted to go digging for it, but by now somebody has probably chucked a half finished Mountain Dew on top of it anyway.

I can’t even get a new one next year because they don’t have the US Grand Prix at Indianapolis anymore because that money-grubbing toxic vampire Bernie Ecclestone cancelled it.  And yes, I realize all vampires are probably toxic.

Granted, I have plenty of other lucky charms, a Tootsie Pop wrapper with an Indian on it, a business card from the Mr. Whippy ice cream shop in Chincoteague, VA, ticket stubs from ballgames, a blue plastic racecar.  So I am not lacking other sources of luck, but that one was particularly near and dear to my heart, and now it is on its way to the local landfill.  That makes me sad.


2 thoughts on “Wait, that was lucky

  1. OK, OK, I’m sorry. I really am. I had sort of thought that I might get an awestruck “thanks!” for cleaning out the car, but I realize I screwed up.

    In my defense, there was an onion ring under the parking pass, one I suspect was of similar vintage. I cleaned that out, too. So there.

  2. Yeah, right. I will just point out that the onion ring was not two years old. I sometimes retrieve the the parking pass (or at least I used to…) and remember fondly running like heck through the speedway infield to get in the autograph line. But not anymore apparently.

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