My husband and I tried to install front and rear car bumper/grill thingies this weekend. Which is kind of like the abbreviated version of ‘see if your marriage can withstand a home renovation.’
We actually did extremely well. With the whole Not Fighting thing, that is. The bumpers…not so much.
After holding the instructions AND the bumper (not tiny) in every possible combination, reading websites, watching YouTube instructional videos and reading the car manual, we were still at a loss.
Suddenly, I had an idea! Ideas are not necessarily my strong suit. My ideas tend to be met with rolling eyeballs every which way…by everybody. Genius is hard to recognize in the moment. I always forgive them.
Anyway, clearly my poor husband was just as desperate as I. He handed over the car keys willingly when I said I remembered seeing the same car with the same bumpers (installed correctly!) in our neighborhood.
I drove up and down our little side streets where I had seen it parked recently. Daggonit if that car was not where it was supposed to be. Until…there it was! At the bottom of the last hilly little street!
…with it’s brake lights on and driver’s side door open. What are the stinkin’ chances?!
Here is where most normal people probably would have kept on driving and thought of another solution to their dilemma. Or maybe – maybe – done the sloooooow drive by while rubber necking to attempt to see how in tarnation they attached that thing.
I pulled up, walked over and interrupted these nice ladies’ conversation and tried to succinctly explain our predicament. Both heads definitely cocked slightly to the side, perhaps trying to quickly assess my mental stability, before the driver told me I was welcome to look at her car.
So while they continued to have their lady talk, I got down on my hands and knees and peered under and into every inch of the front of that car.
It was a bit awkward. But frankly, it didn’t actually cross my mind not to get out and ask. I certainly wouldn’t have been upset if she had said no, but I just don’t see the harm in asking. It wasn’t until retelling the story to my husband and seeing the look on his face that I realized maybe this was another Annie Behavior.
My behavioral choices seem to be greatly influenced by my general lack of boundaries. Admittedly, this characteristic often gets me into trouble. And yet, even though I am often eager to change lots of other things about myself, this is not one of them.
If I see someone in a restaurant that I think I went to kindergarten with and haven’t seen since? Definitely going to go say hi.
If we saw you and your friends* on the subway and then I see you later at the same event as us? Definitely going to wave and say, “Too funny! We thought you might be coming here, too!” *’you and your friends’ being people I do not know, of course
If I see someone’s tag sticking out of their shirt in public? Definitely sticking it back in for them with a smile.
This is not to say that people always take too kindly to me. There can be some…awkwardness. Which, of course, I just brush off because I have already moved on and am already asking the woman in line next to me how she likes the brand of deodorant in her basket because I was considering switching.
If I’m not busy Friendly Chatting with strangers, I am usually asking them a favor. Unfortunately, when asking favors from strangers I often have to begin with, “I know this sounds crazy, but…” Yes, I understand that frequently saying that probably means I am a wee bit cray cray but I’m okay with that.
A few months ago I was going on a date and hadn’t had time to paint my nails. After getting off the subway and realizing I was a little bit early I quickly painted them while tucked into a doorway on the sidewalk. I then remembered that I was supposed to text my husband when I was a few blocks away so that he would know when to leave the office. Shoot.
Excuse me, sir? I know this sounds crazy, but could you possibly reach into the zippered pocket in my purse and take out my iphone for me?
I mean, what was I supposed to do?!?
Listen, as I (possibly tipsily) told my husband this weekend in a taxi on our way home from (another?!?!) date,
I don’t know how to be anyone but me, baby.
Are you serious right now, Annie? Who says stuff like that in all seriousness?!?
Me. I say stuff like that. I’m telling you. I can only be me.
And then we laughed the entire way home and all the way upstairs and then back downstairs again to walk the sitter out. I think I even laughed myself to sleep.
We laughed at laughed and laughed. At me.
And I am okay with that.