this is my brain on bric and brac

There are very few things that make me feel as silly and immature as car trouble. Today, I managed to require both a AAA roadside assistance man and a tow-truck. Triple A guy was very nice. He explained to me, quite patiently and incomprehensibly, about batteries and fuel pumps. At one point, he lay down on the street and banged on something underneath the car with his fist while I attempted to start the engine. This seemed so absurd that I began to wonder if he was having me on. (Why yes, miss, this is a time-honored technique for curing automotive ailments. You just punch the car in the correct place, and away you go!)

Revelations acquired while walking the three miles between the repair shop and home:

1. These shoes are more comfortable than I gave them credit for.

2. There are multiple instances where someone thought it was a good idea to build an old-folks' home and a funeral parlor next door to each other.

3. There is something automatically mortifying about sitting in a car and waiting for someone outside the office of a psychic. The man was wearing dark glasses and had slouched so far down into his seat that I thought his shoulders were going to swallow his head.

4. I am a suspicious looking character. This poor guy thought I was following him and kept trying to look at me out of the corner of his eye, so he walked into a pole. I thought this was terribly funny, but I don't think he was amused.