Golf husband requested that I get with the marketing director at the club yesterday to help put together a video presentation. The task was to first take photos of the cottage that was being built on the golf course.
I have talked to Laureen on the phone and we are friends on facebook. The night before she offered to go out for drinks sometime. So I texted her back, so she would have my number and told her I was her Georgia peach and I’m ready for drinks when she was. She texted me back and said that I could drink sweet tea if that would make me feel more at home. Awe, she’s sarcastic and I really think I’m going to like her.
I went to Laureen’s office and we talked about the objective and the fact that the rain and mid-construction were going to cause issues with this event that they were planning. So, we decided to investigate the job site.
We load into my car and she directs me to the cart path. I’ve been on cart paths before so this wasn’t new territory. The path wound and undulated along the golf course. The path then changed in nature there was a gully where the pavement separated and then the path turned into gravel and mush stopping in front of the construction of the two cottages.
We had to pull close to the cottage along side of another pick up, so we wouldn’t block anyone trying to leave the worksite.
I had flutters in my stomach, because new construction is one of my loves in this world. That and now red velvet cake pops.
Us two girls hop along daintily not to get too dirty up amongst the Carhartt sausage party in matching cream color coats. Laureen was even more prepared for mudding in her super cute flowery peep toe shoes. At least I had on boots and jeans, but I’m not working in an office all day either.
After deciding that photos of a messy work site wasn’t a good marketing piece we got back into my car. I begin to back out and crunch. Uh oh. I ran over these metal posts and I’m pretty sure they caused some damage.
I looked at Laureen who had big eyes and then turned the other way to see a guy waving his arms and running over to direct me safely out of the sight.
“Do you want me to get out and look at it?” Laureen asked.
“No. I don’t want to think about it right now. I’m going to save that for later.” Like when I can freak out without her thinking I was crazy. We’ve only known each other for about 20 minutes and she works with my husband. A bad impression was not a priority, but it looks like it was heading that way unintentionally.
All I wanted to do was hurry back, so I can see the damage. In that hurry, I drove over the gully perhaps a little too hard, because all of a sudden there was this metal on metal grinding fingernails on chalkboard sound. Holy crap! What did I do!?
I put the car in park and run to the back of the car. Wow, for running over something that looked damaging there wasn’t anything wrong with my car. Laureen got out of the car and we both were on our hands in knees in our matching coats trying to figure if the muffler fell off. Nothing appeared to be hanging out of the bottom.
We get back in and head down the cart path and the noise which is the equivalent of fingernails scraping a chalkboard is still VERY prevalent. Up ahead of us there was a guy on a golf cart coming our way. Laureen knew him and asked me to roll down my window.
“Hey, do you hear that? Do you know what that noise could be?” Laureen asked.
Great a man. Men know cars right? So, now there were three of us on our hands and knees looking at my car’s undercarriage.
Just then it was a caravan of golf cars with workers on them (more Carhartts) heading towards us.
Since I was from the South and I thought I can put the whole damsel in distress thing on I said sweetly, “I’ve got six guys here can ya’ll figure out what the heck is going on with my car.” Okay, maybe it came out more redneck than sweet.
How dorky is this? Great, now everyone will know Brian as the guy with the wife who can’t drive. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I got out my phone to take a picture. Laureen felt more useful as a photographer than sitting in the car.
Here they are:
They messed around and then we had to let them get back to work. I told them golf husband would repay them with a case of beer or something.
On the way back to drop Laureen off with the grinding still going she says, “Gosh! That sounds terrible! I mean I guess I need to be more positive. Its not that bad. See here is what you do to make it go away.” She then turns up the radio louder.
Gosh, I am really not that upset. This girl is funny.
I grinded up to the front door and Laureen opened the door.
“This was fun.” I said.
“Yeah, I wonder what we’ll screw up the next time we get together.”
“Maybe we can burn something down.” I do like a good fire and it’s cold here.
I drove straight to the auto repair shop and I got a text from Laureen asking me to eat Mexican with her in honor of the nice hispanic man that wedged himself under my car.
Mexican food makes everything better. I really like this girl and not only did we have matching coats and take me to eat Mexican food, but we also had the same nail polish color. She doesn’t know Ken. I asked.
Oh, the guy at the car place said it was no longer making noise and it was probably a rock. WHEW!