Suburban Goddess

I was driving home yesterday through my neighborhood, when I noticed a constable a few cars back. The street I live on is a dead end, and my mailbox is all the way at the end, so when I saw him turn, I figured he was coming for me. (Guilty Catholic conscience…) Actually, I don’t have license plates yet, and the silly cardboard thing they give you at the dealership keeps falling out the back window, so I knew he was coming for me.

(Thankfully, I bought insurance about two hours before I drove home and printed out the temporary cards… a small but noted gesture to the Karma Gods for finally cutting me a break…)

Anyway, I made the turn in the cul-de-sac and stopped in front of the mailbox, preparing my best vacant-dumb-woman smile. He pulled up directly next to me.

“Hey, Miss, I thought I’d just let you know, your right brake light is out.”

I blinked. “Really?”

“Yes, ma’am. Need to get that fixed…” And with a little wave, he was off. I said a quick little Thank You prayer (I seem to be becoming pretty religious), and, stupidly, walked around to the back of the Jeep… duh. So I stood there for a moment before I realized;

I have no one to fix this for me.

Crap!

So I got back into the Jeep and drove to the nearest auto parts store. At the counter, I prepared myself for the usual macho bull, but instead found a very nice, helpful young man. I told him I needed a bulb for a 2002 Jeep Liberty, and he immediately went to the back and returned with a package.

“Oh, and I need one of those weird wrench things… It’s not an Allen wrench, it’s like a star…”

“What size?”

“Um, no idea.” So he followed me out to the parking lot and looked at the back of my truck… a few moments later, I left the store with a package of light bulbs and a weird wrenchy thing. So I pull up in my driveway, set Alex up with a Rice Krispie treat and some toys in the trunk, and set out to display my new-found independence.

A long time ago, before I became the pampered, spoiled brat that I’ve become, I used to be perfectly capable of doing this stuff on my own. I was a strong, independent, mechanically-inclined redneck woman. So even though it was something as trivial as changing a stupid light bulb, it was just one more step back to the confidence that has evaded me of late.

It’s nice to have someone there to do things for you, but sooner or later, you’ve got to stand on your own two feet.

This entry was posted on June 26, 2007 at 1:54 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.