Maybe someday I'll start thinking these things through first

So I ended my last blog with “I’m kind of an idiot.”

Allow me to reinforce that point.

I took my car to the Volkswagen dealership to get it fixed this weekend. This, in and of itself, does not make me an idiot. We’ll get to that part (sheesh, stop being so impatient!)

Allow me to give you some background info. It’s plot exposition, it has to go somewhere. (Only one or two extremely cultured readers will understand that reference. Haha. The rest of you suckers just have to assume it’s funny for some reason, or just on principle. But come on. It’s me. Just trust me. It’s funny).

Anyway, the car sometimes just wouldn’t come out of park. This caused some very awkward moments for me in San Francisco, sitting in the car, wrestling with my gear shifter lever while everyone just sat in my car mulling over the possibilities of surviving if we happened to get stuck there forever.

Luckily, before anyone got any extreme ideas (like going Donner party and eating one of us, or – worse yet – staying in San Francisco), the lever mysteriously shifted. Since I hadn’t done anything different at the time it did so than I had been doing for the previous fifteen minutes, I have to assume the car simply ceased to be amused with it’s little game and decided to move on.

So anyway I took it to get fixed the following weekend. And they seem to have fixed it. When I drove it away, it came right out of park very smoothly. Unfortunately the horn also started blaring, completely independent of me, as soon as I started driving. I had to turn out of the dealership, into another parking lot, back out onto the road, and back into the dealership, honking loudly and incessantly the entire time, while everyone on the road and in the dealership talked about what a jerk I was.

Seriously. Once everyone figured out that it wasn’t my fault they all laughed at me and told me what a jerk they thought I had been intentionally being.

So while I was waiting for them to fix the horn, my friend Sarah, who had given me a ride to pick up my car, was looking at Volkswagen merchandise in the parts department. She found one way cool track jacket that was about four sizes too big for her and put it on. She zipped it up over her head and wandered blindly around the room, feeling walls and such. The picture at the top right shows kind of what she looked like. I mean it's basically it's a photo.

I know what you’re thinking. And YOU’RE the idiot, Kate? I know! You’re right. Up to this point anyway.

But at this point, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to come up and try to zip down the jacket – which, as illustrated, was over her head. Immediately a large number of her hairs got caught in the zipper, causing what sounded like a good deal of pain.

We spent the next few minutes with me trying to get her hair out of the zipper while various staff and customers walked by, laughing and shaking their heads.

It sounded something like this.

Sarah: Ow, ow, ow…OW! Stop!

Me: Wait. No…I have to…it’s gonna hurt for a second. Wait…

Various bystanders: Hahahahahaha

Sarah: What’s wrong with you? Ow!

Me: I’m SO sorry. I’m sorry. Here. No I’m trying to help! I’m sorry…

Various bystanders: HAHAHAHA.

And so on and so forth. So there you have it.