By Jennifer De Azevedo
I had a solid 10-hour drive to get home and was only 3 hours in. My morning of driving had been pleasant, but I was becoming increasingly aware of my bladder feeling more and more full. I knew I was going to need to find a place to stop soon. Despite my needing to pee, I was feeling a little sleepy, so I opened a bottle of soda that had been sitting on my passenger seat. It exploded in my lap.
Half the contents fizzed out all over my cute and comfy travel clothes and steering wheel. “Awesome,” I thought. “What the heck could I have been thinking to create this?” I attempted to mop up the dark brown puddles in my lap with the box of Kleenex I always have in my car.
Having just spent 3 days being very aware of how I think at a seminar designed to help people think better, I tried to apply one of the universal laws as I wondered if this explosion would stain one of my favorite sweater dresses. “Alright Jen,” I thought. “Let’s go with the Law of Relativity on this one. It’s not good or bad…It just is. It’s just a shirt and I still have a beautiful adventure ahead of me.” I threw the pile of brown-stained tissues on the passenger side floor of my car and turned up the music.
A few miles up the road I came across an offramp with a gas station in a place called Munds Park (It looks just like it sounds). It didn’t look like the safest place for a traveling girl to stop, but I was bursting at this point. As I jumped out to pump gas an extremely disheveled man (and that’s being polite) approached me and asked if I could buy him gas.
At this point in time, I was on a VERY limited budget and was rationing my own funds, so I could get back home. I told the man, I couldn’t help. He looked angry and stepped closer like he was going to argue with me. Then he looked me up and down. I was covered in a brown, poo colored stain. After staring at me for a few seconds he said, “Alright,” and left. I hurried to finished pumping my gas and use the restroom as I didn’t want him to come back.
The second I was back in my car with doors locked I said a prayer of thanks for the soda that exploded in my lap, making me look unkempt and disheveled and, perhaps, helping me avoid an unsavory situation.
“It’s not good or bad…it just is.” We assign meaning to things that aren’t necessarily correct. In America, for instance, we consider a bird flying overhead and dropping poop on us a gross thing. In certain other countries it’s considered a lucky sign. See what I mean? We can decide what is good and bad in life. Maybe an exploding coke could be a lucky sign. Just some food for thought.
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