The Episode In Which Patwoman Almost Misses An Important Meeting, Almost Gets Run Down, And Then Almost Drowns

What a day! Had to run down to DrugCo for a meeting, which I like to do ordinarily. I like to get out of the office and into new scenery. It breaks up the day a little, you know? This time, however, we had the wrong time.

Actually, we had the wrong time and the wrong room, which only made it worse. So, there we are, Jill and I, killing time before our 2:00 meeting—and even got to the room ten minutes early. Here’s what tipped us off on the wrong room thing… No one was there. So Jill sent a quick text and found out where the real room was and we hurried over.

In time for the last 10 minutes of the meeting. Apparently, it started at 12:30. Niiiice.

So, I’m headed back to my office, and as I am crossing the street from the parking garage… Wait. Let me go back and explain something . First of all, I went to Kindergarten. I know you are supposed to look both ways before you cross the street. I always do. I looked and the only traffic was almost a block away, stopped at a light.

But as I started across, (in the crosswalk leading from my garage to my building) the light changed. No problem. I have time. I’d only taken ten steps, but I have time, right?

If you said “Not if there is a city bus coming, Patwoman,” you’d win some sort of prize. Like a prize for being obvious. This bus driver sees me in the crosswalk and guns it. I mean, he outpaces the taxi in the lane next to him! (And why do they never drive fast when they are in front of you on the road? Hm?) So this bus is barreling down on me with the speed and fury of… some furious, speeding thing… And I know he sees me, so I assume he is doing this because 1) I have offended him in some way or 2) he is a giant bag of dicks and thinks it’s funny to see people run for their lives.

Which I do. Because I have seen city busses hit people downtown. Twice. They don’t care. They would just as soon run over a pedestrian as smash into a car. I have seen them do that, too. I think it just eases the boredom a little for them.

Anyway, I make it to my office with my skin intact and the rest of the day goes fine. Until the rain starts. Like monsoon rain. Like, Go Get Two Of Every Animal rain.

Actually, it’s not really the rain that bothers me, although I hate like hell to get my hair wet in the rain. (Which I will, because I don’t carry an portable lightning rod umbrella.)
In all fairness, Michelle offered to drive me to my car (she parks in the creepy dungeon subterranean parking garage in our building and I park in the nice, well-lit, above ground parking garage across the street) but I kept telling her, “Oh no, don’t worry about it. It’s just across the street.”

Ha.

Anyway it wasn’t the rain that cheesed me off. It was all the dicks. Like the dick who says to me (as I entered the parking garage, soaked to the skin, wind-whipped hair plastered up in impossible angles) “Don’t you have an umbrella?”

I just stared at him. “What do you think?”

Dick.