Usually on a Saturday morning, I like to make a quick run down to the Jewish deli and pick up a couple of bagels and lox for Madelene and myself. I’ve been feeling better and eager to get out of the house, so I thought this would be a great start. When I looked out the window while getting ready, I noticed the winds were very high, bending the trees in all sorts of obscene directions and when I walked out onto the deck, I felt the bitter cold go right through me. I got very discouraged and had to rethink my plan: either make breakfast here, ---or wait--- does my new car have an automatic remote start up so I can warm up the car before heading out?
I quickly ran over to the office window that overlooks the parking area with my set of funky BMW keys. This thing has unknown gadgets on it, so I figured at least one of these buttons would start this puppy right up. No. such. luck. I went into the bathroom where Madelene was getting ready and asked, “Does the car have a remote start?” She literally dropped her eye shadow applicator and stared at me as if I had asked her if it was able to fly. If this car has a steering wheel warmer, a seat warmer, a foot warmer, I mean come on, that’s not such a far off question to ask. Madelene broke her stare and simply said in a nonchalant and stern tone, “If you install an automatic remote starter for a BMW, it’ll go into lockdown mode.” Term sounds oddly familiar when a psyche ward patient gets loose. I can hear a voice from the car saying, “Alert! Alert! Deb’s trying to install an automatic starter because she’s too damn lazy to walk downstairs to warm me up! Please lockdown immediately! Alert! Alert!” There was once a time when I was driving a loaner BMW before I got into this car and the entire thing went nuts on me. It wouldn’t start up, however it decided to tighten the seatbelt, to where I could not loosen it up and locked all the doors so that I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t even open the windows to scream for help. I was officially “locked down”.
Needless to say, I made breakfast inside. I still have to brave the winds in a little while so that I can make the “big trade off”----a half eaten turkey with stuffing for my mom and dad so that we can take home four huge stuffed artichoke hearts. She refuses to release them unless I give her the goods. It’s like a huge drug trafficking scheme. “The Artichoke & Turkey Trafficking Organized Crime Family.” Ridiculous right? But it’s a fair trade. I don’t want that turkey morphing into some kind of funky chicken a week later. That stuff reeks to high heaven. The entire fridge starts to smell like ass if left in there long enough.
I hope everyone had a terrific Thanksgiving with family & loved ones, and I hope you all have a great weekend! Now onto more stressful events, like decorating and shopping for Christmas. Let the chaos begin!