a senior moment

“Where did I put my pen?” I yell, as I start rummaging through my desk. “I had it right here–right next to my phone, and now I can’t find it. This is impossible. Where did it go?”

My best friend, whose name will remain anonymous, stood next to me with her arms folded, shaking her head.

“Ah, Val, it’s behind your ear.”

I put my hands to my head and feel around, and then I pull it out and stare at it. “Man, I can’t believe that I left it behind my ear. I’m losing it.”

My friend just shrugs. “Yeah, well, you better not lose it too much or you’ll end up with a head full of pens, looking like Medusa.”

I start to laugh. “That would be hilarious. Can you imagine the looks I’d get if I walked into Waldbaums with a dozen pens sticking out of my hair?”

My friend starts cracking up. “I’d pay to see that.”

I give her a sideglance. “Yeah, how much?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. It depends. Wouldja really do it?”

“Heck yeah. If you pay me enough, I’ll do it. If anyone says anything to me, I’ll tell them that I was having a senior moment.”

“A senior moment?” she says, quite loudly. “With a dozen pens in your hair it would be more like a psychotic moment. They’d have to throw a net over you.”

I shake my head and walk over to the coffee pot and begin to fill it with water. “You want coffee? I’m making it,” I say to her.

“Yes, would love some. So anyway, wouldja really walk into Waldbaums with a dozen pens in your hair?”

I open the cabinet and take down two mugs. “As a joke, I would. It’s not like it would be the first time that I’ve been caught in an embarrassing situation.” I hit the start button on the coffee pot.

“Remember that time I took the bus home from the city . . . and when I got in front of my house my car was gone?”

She burst into hysterics. “Only you could forget that you drove to work and then report your car as stolen.”

“Yeah, the cop didn’t think it was so funny.”

The coffee was almost done brewing. I walked over to it. “Gee, I don’t smell coffee. Do you?”

She lifts her nose into the air and takes a whiff. “No, I don’t smell it either.”

We just stare at each other. “Vallie, did you put the coffee in the filter?”

I shake my head and roll my eyes.
The brewing had finished. I open the lid to the stainless steel carafe and hold my breath. Yep! Hot water.

“So. How do you feel about having tea?”

It was just another one of those senior moments. You know the kind. Like the time you took out the milk to pour in your coffee only you didn’t make coffee. And what about the time when you jumped out of bed to go to work and it was a Saturday? And let’s not forget about the time you took the bus home from work when you drove in that day? I know you know these moments. I know I have. Seriously guys, the pen behind the ear was nothing compared to what I did a few days ago.

Here I was, leaving Costco, and walking to my car. I don’t know what I was thinking but I opened the door to someone else’s car and got in. The lady sitting in the passenger seat started to scream. She scared the S$$t out of me.
“Oh, gosh, lady I’m sooo sorry. I’m not going to carjack you,” I said, trying to calm her down.

“What do you want?” she stammered.

“I got in the wrong car, lady. There’s my car, over there.” I point to it.

“Well, the next time you have to be careful,” she says.

I purse my lips. “Yes, I will be more careful, and so should you.”

“Me? And how do you figure that?” she says defiantly.

“Your door wasn’t locked. Had it been, I wouldn’t have been able to get in the car.”

We just stare at each other.

“Well, I’m going. It was a pleasure talking to you.”

“Okay, bye now. It was nice talking to you too.”

I walk to my car and shake my head. I need to start taking fish oil.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s