We watched the Cadillac come up to the public bathroom from where we were sitting in the park’s shelter. The driver got out and went around to help the passenger get out. He was unsteady and leaned on her. She slammed the car door shut and together they made their way to the Men’s. 

Sig said, “That’s probably us if we last another 10 to 15 years.” 

Ten years? Well, I don’t think so. Maybe You but not me.” We bickered back and forth about our widely different outlooks on the future when the woman suddenly started yelling.   

“Damnit! Shit! Damnit! Oh, Damnit.” She was walking around the car waving her arms. “I locked my keys in there, I locked my keys in there. I’ve never done that ever!”

I took my cell phone and we went over to see what we could do. 

Well, you see, Edna and Ed were heading home from the hospital after Ed’s knee replacement. They had OnStar service on their car but the number routed them to an automated message center. So Sig and Edna take off to find a mechanic. Ed and I have a nice chat about the usual – surgery advancements, cell phones, retirement, Colorado in the summer.  

Sig and Edna return and help is on the way. Just before we leave — they tell us about their really good friends in Kansas City; they own a big funeral home. If we ever need anything, just mention their name.

Think about it, before Facebook this is how it happened.

4 thoughts on “Befriended

  1. What a wonderful slice of your road trip home..just as it always is..I can see you and Sig at the shelter with lunch!! Lets hope you don’t need to call their friends anytime soon…happy trails!

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