Get the hell out of my way!!! screamed the tiny woman hunched over the wheel of the ’76 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham, her 1960’s beehive, almost touching the headliner, gave her the appearance of being taller than the 5’2″ showing on her driver’s license.
Peeling out of the palmetto lined gravel parking lot like the proverbial bat out of hell, the crystal blue firemist metallic relic of a sedan left a comet tail of dust behind it thicker than LA smog rising so quickly, the driver could barely spot the sign for the 7 Star Convenience Store in her rear view mirror, her focus intent on the road ahead and getting home as quickly as possible.
Myra was making her Wednesday afternoon trip to the “scary store”, (a local nickname for the 7 Star, it wasn’t really scary, well, maybe just a little) for the usual cigarettes, beer and lotto ticket and had just pulled up when she got a text from her neighbor Delores –
“Get home quick Myra, I think someone’s breaking into your house!”
Just what I need today, of all days…someone breaking into my house on my birthday?!
Myra made no effort to be quiet, screeching tires on the driveway, she pulled right up to the front door of the yellow stucco cottage with green trimmed windows; fueled by anger and a little fear, she jumped out of the car and ran straight through the front door and into her living room not knowing what to expect and was shocked to see a room full of people shouting “Surprise! Happy Birthday!”
Subsiding slowly, shock gave way to relief and as Myra, still somewhat stunned, searched the smiling faces, she found the one she knew was responsible…”Delores, kind friend, I know you meant well, but you damned near gave me a heart attack”!