Saturday, January 17, 2009

My Travels With La Familia

I spent a few days in Scottsdale with my father, two of my sisters, and my bro-in-law. The weather was beautiful. We walked a great deal. We were all tired. Not sure why. The first night I couldn't sleep, so I got up quietly and went out to the car and drove away to look for a late night coffee spot. (Even though I've only had one cup of coffee in my entire life. I was sixteen years old and I'd had too much to drink, so my girlfriends got me to drink some coffee. The coffee didn't do anything except make me awake and drunk.)

The funny thing is that my sister was sleeping on the couch when I tiptoed out of the house. Apparently she heard the door open and in her half-sleep state, she wondered if someone was breaking into the house. Then she heard my car and wondered if someone was stealing the car. She finally got up and looked out the window. She saw someone in the car and figured if someone was stealing the car they probably wouldn't be just sitting there. (I was listening to the radio.) She then turned on the porch light. From the car, I saw the light come on and then go off and come on again. I wondered if someone was sending me some kind of signal. Did they want me to come back? Was someone in trouble? Was there some strange energy surge happening to cause the lights to go on and off?

I eventually drove away. I couldn't find anything open except McDonald's. So I sat in Basha's parking lot and look at my email. When I went back to the townhouse, everyone was asleep. We laughed about this later. I thought it was funny that my sister's response to thievery was to turn on the porch light. (We all wondered if this was to make it easier for the thieves to see what they were stealing?)

My sister and I also went on a crime spree. At one grocery store whose name I won't mention, they have a sign that says the shopping carts will lock up if you take them over these yellow lines and away from the store. One night my sister and I decided to check this out. Mario and my dad hurried away.

"We're just like Thelma and Louise," I said to my sister as I ran with the shopping cart toward the yellow line. I stopped the cart and looked at her. "Oh wait," I said. "They died in the end."

We took the cart over many yellow lines. The cart did not stop. It didn't even hesitate. Nothing happened. The next night we returned and tried more carts in different places. We concluded the shopping-cart-locking-up-thing was all a lie.

We had much fun proving it was a lie. My sister took a photograph of me. Since I'm dressed in my baggy Sally Ann clothes (as I nearly always am), I look like some old bag lady running away with a cart. Someday when she sends the photo to me, I'll post it here.

Yes, I live the wild life.

Now I'm in Santa Cruz with my youngest sister. We're staying in a sweet little hotel a few blocks away from her apartment. She's got the flu, so I don't know if we'll see her any more before we leave, poor sweetheart. Wish I could make her all better. Her husband and two dogs are taking care of her. She'll be well soon.

We're off for now.

May You Heal in Beauty!


gb said...

I'm not sure what it says about our society, but to be a true Scottsdale lady pushing a stolen shopping cart there must be a 1.5 liter bottle of vodka and/or gin in the cart. Also having a carton of Benson & Hedges shows you are "old Scottsdale" and not some newly arrived snowbird.

Anonymous said...

Turning on a light to surprise an intruder is a fine old tradition. Years ago, when my husband travelled frequently for his job, I had a ritual for addressing strange noises in the night. I would go from room to room turning on the light and yelling, "Hey!" I recommend to your sister that she add the "Hey" part. It must have been effective in scaring away the intruders as I never encountered any on my rounds. :)

Kim Antieau said...

My sisters went back to the parking lot and tried the shopping carts of the WalGreens next door to the grocery store. The wheels did indeed lock up. My sisters are smarter than I am. THAT never occurred to me.

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