On Sunny Lane: Night of the Town
There were many years when I didn’t celebrate my birthday—and even tried to forget it. Now that I’m older, every birthday seems to be another accomplishment and a cause for celebration.
So, last Saturday, Sweetheart took me to Pittsburgh to the theater to see Shen Yun perform. It was glorious! The costumes were vibrant colors. The dancers performed with athletic precision. The stories they performed in dance were inspiring. It was an excellent birthday gift.
However, Sweetheart did have a few words of caution. He knows how I like to dance and keep fit. So, he said, “Don’t try this at home. You might hurt yourself and break furniture .”
Well, even though the dance program was the reason for the trip, the trip itself was an adventure.
Well, it was the trip home that was interesting. It started in the parking garage.
We were parked on the sixth level. There were a hundred people on the ground floor, waiting for two elevators to take them to their cars. There was a third elevator, but it was out of order. So, Sweetheart and I decided to take the steps.
As we ascended, Sweetheart said there must have been 300 steps. However, using mental math, I calculated there were approximately 108 steps. I did it this way: I counted the steps in one level. There were 18. So, I multiplied 20 times six. That equals 120. Then I took 2 (the difference between 20 and 18), times 6. That equals 12. I then subtracted 12 from 120. That equals 108. It’s a lot less taxing on the brain than multiplying 18 by 6 in my head.
So, anyway, we exited the door on the sixth level and Sweetheart expected to see our car right on the corner. Instead, we saw a little red car parked in front of a handicapped parking sign.
Sweetheart immediately assumed that he had missed the handicapped sign and our car had been towed away. He couldn’t understand how he had missed seeing the sign.
I told him he missed the sign because there was none. I’ve been through this situation before in a parking garage and and we should just keep looking for the car. He just couldn’t keep that towing scenario out of his head, so we took the elevator to the ground floor so we could talk to the attendant.
The attendant assured us that the garage did not tow cars and that ours would be right where we left it. He suggested that we go to the fifth level and walk up to the sixth level and we would find it. So, we took the elevator (which was no longer crowded) to the fifth level.
We began to walk up the pathway and soon found our car, just as the attendant had predicted. He must have dealt with this situation before. So, you can let that be a lesson for you the next time you can’t find your car in a parking garage.
We had more interesting experiences on our trip, which I can tell you about next week. Stay tuned.
Dorothy is the author of two books—“Miles and Miracles” and “Getting It All Together “. You can purchase a book or make a comment by emailing her at email@example.com