The saying goes that March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb. This usually refers to the weather, which this year was more lamb-like. But for me the implications were a bit different, and the lion aspect proved to be the case for my day.
The first of the month happened to be Mardi Gras and I was excited about going to see a New Orleans-style brass band to celebrate the holiday. A friend who I hadn’t seen in a while was coming up from Bloomington and we were going to meet up before the show.
My car had been in the shop getting new tires, and I was glad it was finished in time for me to get ready and leave on time. I got concerned when the low tire pressure light came on during my drive on the interstate. But it was when I was on a regular surface road that I had to face the truth—I somehow already had a flat tire.
The only option from roadside assistance was to tow the car, which would mean missing the show—obviously an unacceptable arrangement. So my friend drove all the way over to my side of town to pick me up. After examining the sad state of the tire, we decided the best plan was to call for a tow when we left the show.
I related the story to my friend that I had just gotten new tires that afternoon. I mentioned I heard a strange sound, but figured that’s just what new tires sounded like. She said, “New tires don’t SOUND like anything.” (Her dry tone of voice was that of: “How’s that Master’s degree working out for you, Smart Girl?!”)
I am pleased to say that after all that, we were able to arrive at the venue just as the band was starting—we didn’t miss a single note of music. They say that often when you are met with adversity then it makes you appreciate the good all that much more (not to mention generating the best source of stories). I can say those were the best tasting crab cakes I’ve ever had.
The band consisted of about a dozen brass instruments, except for the drummer; they played joyous music that had people up dancing. Beads decorated the tables, as well as masks—the fun kind with feathers and sequins, not the boring cloth ones we’ve been wearing for two years.
Space was limited so partway through some newcomers were seated at our table. It was a challenge to talk over the music but they seemed like nice people. After the show, my friend and I were able to finally catch up on each other’s lives while waiting for the tow truck. It took a while but it was a nice night in a quiet parking lot, and was actually more conducive to conversation than the restaurant.
The truck driver was polite and efficient. He towed my car back to the shop, and on the way amused me with his rousing endorsement of Red Bull. He also earned a good rating from me in the survey I got from the company the next day—I always enjoy being able to give positive feedback.
Mom came to collect me from the car repair place, and for her trouble I gave her my piece of king cake, the pastry that is traditionally served in New Orleans during Mardi Gras celebrations. All’s well that ends well. But the whole experience did make me wonder what was in store for me on St. Patrick’s Day.