I signed the kid up for tennis camp last summer. Outdoor tennis camp. In 90 degree weather. With students who could rival Billie Jean King. To top it off, it was an hour away.
Every morning we would sit in rush hour traffic, all the time asking myself, “where is my crown?” This one certain morning we get stuck in construction traffic. It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t the only single lane street leading into town, but it was. There were police officers directing traffic, but I see that there is someone trying to make a left onto the street from a parking lot.
No one seems to be letting him in. What’s wrong with people? So I stop to allow him room to pull out. But he doesn’t. I flash my lights. Nothing. I give him the universal hand signal to go ahead. Nothing. Finally, I roll my window down and start waving like a crazy lady while whispering (well, maybe not whispering exactly) obscenities. What? Is he on his cell phone or something? The guy isn’t paying a damn bit of attention.
The cop in front of me is starting to get pissed that I’m holding up traffic. The cars behind me….that’s a different story. Suddenly I hear a low giggle beside me and this — “Uh, mom? You do realize that there is no one in that car, don’t you?” Oh. Geez, you could have told me…
By the way, did you know that Billie Jean King is still alive? I thought she died like 20 years ago. I found out because I was looking up the correct spelling of her name. I must have been getting her confused with Arthur Ashe. Simple mistake. Anyone could have made it. Right?