As I drove home from work on Friday evening, I glanced in my rear view mirror and saw that the car behind me had a headlight out. I had to stop at the post office, so I was able to see the rest of the vehicle as it went by. I realized it was my coworker’s, Tina.
After dropping off a bill in the mailbox, I dialed Tina’s cell number to let her know her passenger side headlight was out. She thanked me for letting her know and I hung up.
I continued on my way home, feeling proud of myself for helping out a friend. Glad that’s not me, I thought. Unlike the old days where anybody with some time and a little know-how could replace a burned-out bulb, I now own a vehicle in which the front bumper needs to be removed to access the headlight. While I don’t personally do the work, I can report that replacing a headlight takes my husband and his friend the mechanic two hours working together. As you can imagine, Peter is not fond of this task.
I had one more stop before home. I pulled into the BP station to fill up my tank. While I pumped gas, I watched people go in and out of the Taco Bell attached to the convenience store. A truck pulled away from the drive-in window and alongside my car. The driver rolled down his window.
“Your driver’s side headlight is out,” he said.
I groaned. “Thanks,” I said. Peter will be thrilled, I thought.
And then this song got stuck in my head.
Another post for Just Jot It January. Find optional prompts and join in the fun here.