Sumo Lady:

What the what!?

I am a huge fan of Tina Fey’s, not only do I feel like we have similar looks, but our lives are also similar.  Okay, maybe we aren’t anything alike, but she says things that make me laugh, therefore, in my mind, we are twins separated at birth born like 18 years apart.  To better illustrate a few quotes from the Queen of comedy herself:

“Lovers…oh that word bums be out, unless it’s between meat and pizza.”

“I’m lizzing…” (Laughing and whizzing at the same time)

“My mom used to send me articles about how older virgins are considered good luck in Mexico.”

Recently I finished reading Tina Fey’s book Bossypants, I literally laughed audibly as I read it during my lunch break. (Seriously who says Laugh out Loud anymore!?) Many of her experiences and accounts, brought to mind, or ripped from repression, several of my own humorous histories, granted mine are G rated and might contain more self deprecation, but crack a smile you might. 

A few years ago, I had just returned to the country after living in South America for nearly two years.  I was struggling to normalize back into the grove of American culture. Needless to say, I was as out of place, I felt disconnected and I made everything way harder than it needed to be.  I think I had just gotten my first paycheck and instead of depositing it into my account at my bank, I felt like I needed to take it to the bank of the person who gave it to me, talk to a real person, handle real money, you know sticking with the old ways, a simpler time, which actually adds a step or twenty to the process we have today, so I can’t see how it was simpler to begin with.  At any rate, it was my intention to dash in and out of the bank. It’s also important to mention that at this particular time in my life I was without vehicle and had to rely on the kindness of friends to take me from point A to B.  On the day in question, my kind friends loaded me up in the car to run me to the bank before a wild weekend including, but not limited to endless rounds of “that’s what she said…” innuendos, tearful, support group-like exchanges about why we were still single…at 22, and little to no interaction with the opposite sex. I tell you what, if that isn’t a party animal living the life, I am not sure what is.

At long last, we were off to the bank, I remember jumping out of the car and calling back something about how I wouldn’t be long.  We were in such a rush to get to wherever it was we were going, probably an all you can eat event, that my focus was so tightly honed in on getting the things done and checked off the list to limit the time each errand was taking from our goal.   So I went into the bank super fast, and came out looking down at the cash.  Those were the pre-hybrid days where every human being drove, or, in my case, was driven in, a white Toyota Corolla. So I was rushing out of the bank staring down at my statement and was no doubt rehearsing a dramatized version of what went on in the bank, trying to make it into a comedic monologue that would entertain us during the drive to our next location.  Feeling like that had been perfected, I glided into the back of the Corolla and began yakking like I was freaking stand up comic. Half way through my story I look up and see a rather large Asian woman (ironic I know) with the most frighten look on her face turned around staring, wide eyed back at me from the driver’s seat.

“Oh Hello,” I say in a shocked yet controlled soprano. I turn my head ever so slightly to the left and see my friends in the OTHER White Toyota Corolla, two cars down in the parking lot that is now shaking from their laughter. My new found chauffeur was stunned, she must have been in the middle of brushing her hair, because she continued absentmindedly running the round brush through her bangs, and as she stared at me with an expression that screamed at me, “I had not planned on murdering another human being today, but I just may have to.”  She uttered not a sound and she raised the brush in her hand almost demonstrating some carnal survival instinct.  Quickly I said, “Whoopsie…wrong car! Sorry!” and in one motion I shrugged and threw myself out of the car, this woman never said a word.  She slowly lowered her round hair brush, her eyes turned to slits and she smiled, either that or she showed me all her teeth as an expression of defensive dominance and readiness for aggression.  I backed away slowly, when I felt safe she wasn’t going to pelt me with the brush, I turned around to walk away in embarrassment. At that point I heard the faint click of my sweet sumo lady locking her car doors no less than 15 times. As she did I felt a shudder go up my spine and I thought, “Oh no, she no longer feels safe brushing her hair in her car.” Embarrassed and confused, I slid into the spot of my original intention, just behind the driver’s seat in my friend’s car.  They were still having a hard time catching their breath between laughs and I slumped down in my seat waiting for sumo lady to drive off. 

Some questions in life will never be answered.   For example, did my friends move the car or is my sense of direction a personal handicap?  Was this experience a premonition of things to come, or a symbol of how my life has turned out—getting in the wrong car, angry Asian people…maybe that is a metaphor for my life?  And most importantly, why in the Sam Hell didn’t my friends honk the horn to stop me??