A random look at the life and times of Jim Rising recovering radio addict and newspaper columnist.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

8 08 08 lucky?

I have taken a part-time job. It’s almost not a job at all except for the fact that I have to show up. Before I went on vacation a couple of weeks ago the gym where I work out posted a note on the locker room door. They needed someone to open the joint up at 4:30am Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 3.5 hours a day.
Since I spent more than thirty years as a morning radio announcer getting up that early is an engrained habit. The perks include a free gym membership and a few extra dollars a week to put towards my newly reassessed mansion/estate. I haven’t worked a job where I had to be anywhere on a regular basis for almost a year. I actually kind of like it. So before I went on vacation I told them that if no one wanted it when I returned I would take it. That’s exactly what happened.
The first day, 8 08 08 was a disaster.
I am able to wake up without using an alarm clock. I can tell myself what time I want to wake up and I do. I am also one of those insufferable people who can climb out of bed completely awake and even with a hangover that would kill a lesser man, usually in pretty good mood.
But just to be one the safe side I had the long suffering wife set an alarm clock.
I don’t know what made me turn over and look at the clock. For a few seconds I couldn’t believe it, and then I started swearing. It was 4:55am!
A great way to start a new job! Late the first day.
With hair standing straight up and clothes thrown on I raced out the door and drove like Dale Jr. was on my tail. Thank God there were no cops or deer in my way on my route! I live pretty close so I made it only five minutes late. But still loads of grumbling from the early birds. And I had forgotten all my careful notes about how to do the job so I had to wing it.
The day just got better. I was supposed to review a concert that night for the Weekender. On our way to the show the long suffering wife’s car conked out. Stopped dead in its tracks. Right near the Moosic entrance ramp of I-81. So I called my buddy and he helped me get a tow. I am lucky to have a friend like that. While we waited on the side of I-81 (staying in the car became not an option. Watching huge 18 wheelers bear down on us in the rearview was just too nerve wracking) an SUV pulled up behind our car. Then leaned on the horn like it was in the way. I struggled up the steep bank to see what the hell was going on. The tinted window rolled down and the driver said “Is that your car?” A moment here to describe the driver. She was blonde. Very blonde. Now I am happily married but I am not blind. She had on tube top that was dangerously full. Tribal tattoos on her arm. The car smelled like…well it smelled real good. And she was drop dead gorgeous.
She was in the words of the late Rick James “The kind you don’t take home to mother.” A snap judgment maybe but I stand by it.
“Yes it is.” I managed to stammer.
“Oh crap! My girlfriend has the exact same car and she said she was broken down right here.”
What are the chances? Sure enough as I looked down the highway I saw another car with flashers on about a mile away. It was a twin to my Wife’s car.
The babe in the SUV pulled out and soon after my friend and the tow truck arrived.
I never did make it to the show.

1 comment:

John said...

I think I know her.