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AHA! I'VE GOT A COUPLE MORE little quirks to tell you about, Dear Reader. Tiny twists of fate. I'm a fan, it's already been divulged, of coincidence.
Okay, so this first one was yesterday. I had to go tend to a tenant. My Friday conversation with Tiffany had gone something like this: "Were you thinking," I had asked, "about paying your rent?"
"Well, here's the thing," she'd responded, "I can't make the rent by myself. And I haven't seen Shana for weeks! She's not talking to me. I know she paid last month, but I don't think she'll pay any more rent."
Oh, lordy, lordy. It hit me that the situation here had further descended into the muck and mire of we-had-a-falling-out-ness. I'd been foolish to think there would be resolution.
So that's how yesterday morning found me headed for Tiffany's apartment, aiming for her signature on a document entitled Cancellation of Lease Agreement. (It's a contract I ad libbed onto paper, envisioning as I did so a bemused court of law, snickering at my work).
"I've got a lot to do," said Tiffany, when she'd signed away her free housing rights. "Today is the birthday of one of my very best friends!"
" Wow," I exclaimed. "No kidding! Mine, too!"
"Oh." Tiffany looked at me, "Happy Birthday!" she said.
"I mean, it's the birthday of one of MY very best friends, too!" I said.
Ahem. So, that was it, Dear Reader. I know the fluke wasn't all that outstanding. Sure, everybody's got a birthday; every day lots of people are having one; for every three-hundred and sixty-five people you know...oh, just forget it! I was impressed, anyway--nobody has more than a handful of very best friends!
So how about today's happenstance:
I was off to the Toyota dealership yet again. This time the notice received in the mail had read: "Certain 1998 Through 2010 Toyota Sienna Vehicles Equipped with a Spare Tire--Severe Corrosion of Spare Tire Carrier Cable--SAFETY RECALL NOTICE (Remedy Now Available)"*
*"(Remedy Now Available)" was written in red ink. I suppose that was meant to be the exciting part. (Wow, even though this vehicle has been driven for almost ten years, and this condition could have been a problem since its manufacture, now there's a remedy, yipee!)
Well, I'm sorry, but here was the candy coating for me--I could take this car to the dealership where 1) it would be fixed for free, and
2)they would take me via their shuttle service to any place I wished to go within a pretty broad radius [though not to Arizona, the driver informed me]. Oh, and
3)they would bring me back whenever I pleased.
(A little parenthetical explanation here, which has nothing to do with odd coincidence, other than the fact that I'm planning on shuttling off to the very same shopping center and meeting the very same friend as was the case last time Toyota recalled my car. But there's really nothing odd about that, other than the fact that our rendezvous is impromptu. I just called. We just talked. "I'll come meet you," she said, "but we have to walk to the park!"
"Then you'll have to bring me a pair of shoes," I said.)
And she did--what a fabulous friend.
Oh, my, this is getting long, Reader Dear. Where was I? Climbing into the shuttle car, I think.
And the driver announces to my fellow passenger, "I'll take the young lady to the shopping center first."
Dear me! I wonder if his poor eyesight is going to be a safety factor. "I'll bet I'm about your age," I say. And we quickly discover it is true. Furthermore, Larry, the fellow passenger and I are just the same age.
"Did you both grow up around here?" the driver asks.
"No, I didn't." I say. "I grew up in southern Virginia."
"Oh?" Larry swings around in his seat, "Where? Out in the western part?"
"In Newport News," I say.
His eyes open wide. "I spent my whole adult life there!" he exclaims. "Up until just four years ago!"
How amazing, I think. How many times is this little fluke going to happen to me!?
"I joined the army," Larry's saying. "And served at Fort Eustis."
"Well, I grew up right across the river from there," I tell him. "We heard the guns of Fort Eustis every day!"
He goes on to tell me where he worked, where he lived when he left the army. He and his wife got married the very same year that I said "I do" to my yard man.
The shuttle car driver pulls up to the curb at the shopping center. The engine is running and he's patiently waiting as I squeeze in comments and questions.
Arrgh. What curlicues could have been added to this coincidence, I'll never know. I have to say goodbye and let the driver (two years older than me, but with questionable eyesight) take his passenger and go on their way.
But I get to go on my way, too--right on to the very best part of my day. And savoring that little waddayaknow besides!
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