Scenic Route

Last night, I made a list of all the places I planned to go today:

  • Stumble to YMCA for early workout
  • Take the Possums to school
  • Drop off Dear Husband at the office
  • Swing by the grocery store with Bug in tow
  • Take Bug to school
  • Drop off the car at the repair shop
  • Go to work
  • Return to the car repair shop
  • Pick up the Possums at their after-school program
  • Pick up Dear Husband at the office
  • Pick up Bug from the babysitter
  • Take everyone to the YMCA for soccer practice
  • Return home (to homework, dinner, bath, laundry, piano practice, and the like.)

All ran according to plan until I arrived at the auto repair shop (Stop #6) and found myself with no ride to work. Sensing the apparent rift in my logistically-complicated universe, one of the owners of the shop offered to drive me to my office located only a few minutes down the road.

Grateful, I turned toward the parking lot. Mr. Polite walked to the passenger’s side of my car. I headed to the driver’s side, as usual. It wasn’t until I sat down behind the wheel that I realized Mr. Polite was still standing on the opposite side of the car patiently holding open the door, keys in hand.

“Miss,” he grinned. “I hold the door open for my ten-year-old daughter, my wife, and my grandmother. I expect I’m going to hold the door open for you, too.”

“Oh,” I blushed. “You wanted to drive?”

I shuffled over to the passenger’s side and slid into the unfamiliar seat. He closed the door after I buckled up.

As he put the keys into the ignition, he said, “Why don’t you just take a break for five minutes? I got this.”

Um, did he say take a break? Relinquish control? Give up the reins? Before I could protest out of habit, we were off.

Mr. Polite meandered just under the speed limit down the twisty country road and made friendly small talk.

I looked out the window and cupped my warm coffee.

  • Has that field always been covered in such pretty purple flowers?
  • Oh, farm fresh eggs for sale? I should really stop there some time.
  • Guess the cross-country team is having an early practice at school today. They look like young colts learning how to master those long legs of theirs. I wonder what they are thinking about. Do they even know how much they have to look forward to?

Mr. Polite slowly turned into the long driveway of my employer’s bucolic campus and I continued to silently observe.

  • The ducklings have really gotten big since the spring; they are starting to lose all their baby fuzz.
  • A great blue heron!
  • The lake sure is still this morning. Not a single ripple. I wonder what will cause the first.
  • Oh, I’ve always admired that weeping willow tree. Maybe I will eat my lunch under it today. After all, there is no rain in the forecast for a change…

Before I knew it, Mr. Polite had safely delivered me to the front entrance, gathered my bags for me, and, of course, opened my door. I repeatedly thanked him for the unexpected gesture of kindness.

“Think nothing of it,” he said. “I enjoyed the drive.”

And so did I.

Scenic Route


2 thoughts on “Scenic Route

  1. Sorry you don’t get to be a passenger and enjoy your coffee more often. But, obviously, that’s what makes this particular experience so blog-worthy 🙂

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