Monday, December 6, 2010

Oh, My Lack of Common Sense

I do a lot of driving for work...A LOT of driving. I fill up my tank of gas maybe twice a week, which sucks a little when I think of the days when I used to fill up my gas tank once every two weeks.

So picture me at the gas station last week leaning over to my purse to grab my wallet as I get ready to fill up my gas tank. And as I dig through my purse it becomes increasingly obvious that my wallet is not there.

It's in a different purse. At home. Dammit.

Fortunately, I had enough gas to get back to my office but I definitely did not have enough gas to make it all the way back to my house. I was feeling slightly panicked.

I called Mindy who works in Utah County like me--no answer. And then I emailed her. No answer. (Subsequently, we're not speaking to each other because she still refuses to answer my questions. Weird, right?)

I racked my brain.

And then I did what I was hoping I wouldn't have to do. I leaned over to my buddy John who sits next to me and motioned for him to come over. "John!" I whispered, "Come here!"

John, is one of my favorite co-workers. We go out to lunch every Thursday and he's constantly introducing me to tasty restaurants I would never have thought to try. We laugh all day long. I coach him on the basics of sports (which may be the most hilarious thing ever) and he instructs me on what shoes to wear with what pants. And no, he's not gay. Just one very metrosexual man. His eyebrows are perfect and he's always sporting a very fetching tan. In a nut shell, I love this guy.

But still, I was just about to ask John for money. I was feeling supremely awkward.

"John," I begin. "Would you mind..." I trail off as my whispers become almost uninteligible.

"What?"

And then in a rush I said, "I left my wallet in my other purse and ironically my car is almost out of gas and I was hoping you could spot me some money so I could at least fill up my gas tank enough so I can get home tonight. I promise to pay you back tomorrow! I swear I have cash in my wallet, it just conveniently happens to not be with me. Did I mention that I left my wallet in my other purse? And the spindle showing my gas level is teetering closely to below the red line? And I promise you I will pay you back tomorrow...I'm just so embarrassed. All I need is $5 and I'll make it home..."

And on and on and on.

John looked equally uncomfortable. I haven't felt this embarrassed in a long time.

"Well, actually, I do have some cash. It's in my car though. You'll have to come to the parking lot with me."

This was not exactly what I wanted to hear. I was really hoping he'd just pull some money out of his pocket and we could make the transaction as quick and painless as possible.

So I followed John to his car. Along the way he picked up a fellow who was headed out to a meeting with John. This guy (whose name I don't know) gallantly began walking to the back seat so I could have the front. He was assuming that I was coming along to their appointment. I didn't know how to say that actually I wasn't going with them, I was just following John out to his car so he could give me some money.

Even as I write these words, I cringe. If someone were telling me this story secondhand I would think they were being a tad overdramatic, and yet I cannot stress enough how embarrassed I felt.

"Oh, you don't have to take the back seat," I said. "I'm just picking something up...from John's car."

By now John was relishing this newfound power that he was now my official sugar daddy. He kept chirping in my ear with little teasings like, "Don't spend it all in one place," and "I wonder how far you can go with $5, I'm sure to China!"

John grabbed his wallet and pulled out a wad of bills and handed me $5. The guy we had picked up exclaimed, "Wow! What do I need to do to get John to give me cash?!"

Ugh. You can be a tool like me.

Like I said, I paid John back his $5 and included chocolate as well. I'm sure it's something we can laugh about now....