Oy! What a day I had!

Yesterday started off as a perfectly nice day.

In my several-year-long quest to find the perfect hair salon and the perfect stylist, I'd decided to try Richard Anche in Glen Plaza. JACKPOT! The stylist, whom I grilled like she was on a job interview, said she'd been there seven years and had no intention of leaving. And she just did an absolutely awesome job with the hair cut. Exactly what I wanted.

THANK YOU, ANGIE!

Honest ta gawd...I was so tickled with the whole experience that I almost cried. But in a good way. Not in a bad way...like the last hair...ah...tragedy I experienced. (Some of you women probably know what I'm talkin about...you men will probably just think I'm a fruit loop.)

So anywho, I'm feelin pretty damned spiffy as I walk outa the salon. I head to the auto parts store to pick up an air filter for Ziggy's car, and not only find an air filter that is actually made for his car, but get waited on by the nicest guy.

Great day, so far, huh? I shoulda known.

Instant Karma's gonna getchu...gonna kick you right in the head...

Instead of pullin out of the auto parts store onto Forrest Hill where there's a light, I try to pull out onto University. 'Course, the traffic is so heavy that I can only go right. And I wanna go left and head toward the grocery store. Ok, so I'll pull out, go right, go around the block and get headed back in the right direction, ok? No problem.

The problem started when I was sittin at the stop light at the corner of University and Forrest Hill, headed north.

A chubby, black guy on a bicycle pulled up on my right. As he did, he glanced into my car and evidently noticed my purse sittin on the passenger seat. Just as the light turned green, he grabbed my door handle and tried to open my door...to snatch said purse, I expect. Was the door locked? Yup. I wanted to laugh in his face...but he didn't gimme a chance. He peeled off, pedalin his fat ass as fast as it would go, off to the right, toward Forrest Hill and then down a side street or alleyway...couldn't tell.

A couple of years ago, he'd have had my purse. But my present job takes me into a lotta...uh...shall we say rough areas...of town, so I always keep my car doors locked. It's become a habit, now. Thankfully.

Boy, don't I just wish I'd have had a .357 to point at him, though? I probably wouldn't have actually shot him...just pointed it...for the shock value, ya know?

So, on to the Seventh Circle of Hell, better known as the Kroger in Evergreen Square...where I find a parking place RIGHT IN FRONT! On a Saturday morning, no less! I got in, got what I needed and got out IN LESS THAN 20 MINUTES! Jumped on the expressway and headed north to the beach house, errands completed, lookin forward to just chillin the rest of the day wit' da Zigster.

Yea, yea...I forgot about Karma. This time, he jumped right up and took a big ole bite outa the other asscheek.

So, I'm flat-ass flyin down 29. Yea, I'm goin fast, but I'm keepin up with traffic. They drive like maniacs on 29. To survive ya gotta drive like a maniac, too.
Unfortunately, that reasoning didn't fly very far with the nice Mr. State Trooper who nailed me at 71 in a 55.

I saw him comin from the opposite direction, so I immediately slowed down and whipped it off onto a side road...like I planned to go that way.
Lah de dah! I'm just a little ole gramma, comin back from the grocery store. Who? ME? Speeding?

The white pick up truck that was pacin me in the left lane did the exact same thing...only the opposite direction (it's a 4 lane highway with a wide median). In the rearview mirror, I saw the trooper hit his brakes and just knew that he was comin back...but for who?

Yea, I won that little draw.

"Did you realize that I clocked you at 71?"

Uh...did you realize that if you'd clocked me about 30 seconds sooner, your little radar-thingy would have read in the neighborhood of...oh...I dunno....76-77?

Noooo...I didn't say that. But I thought it. I was nice and polite and just told him I have no excuse. He asked me when was the last time I got a ticket and I told him, "Ohhhh...about 30 years ago." He stood there and said, "You're kiddin?"

Whaaat? He thinks I look like a repeat offender? I didn't tell him that I've just been really lucky because I rarely obey the speed limit.

Thankfully, he just gave me a stern lecture and a written warning. 'Course, I hadda get the last word in, anyway.

"I'm not makin excuses...I have none...but I was just keepin up with the traffic."

"Yea, I know. It's a white-knuckle ride out here on 29."

No shit.

Needless to say, I was kinda...rattled...by the time I got home. Taking pity on me, the Zigster took me out for supper.

We tried Bailey's Pub in beautiful, downtown Chillicothe and weren't a bit disappointed. It was great. I'd definitely recommend it. Great sandwiches and a pretty extensive list of beer.

A yummy sandwich and a couple of

Leinenkugel's

later, and I felt much bettah.