Tales from Meyer's Pride, Chapter 2

I was very proud of myself. Since I had moved down here to Coral Springs, most of the driving around town had been done by Jamie (if the three of us were together) or Brien (if it was just him and me). This was mostly because Jamie's car was the only one comfortably big enough for us all, plus they wanted me to get a feel for the city without having to drive.

Last night, however, I ventured out on my own.

Brien was at soccer practice, and I was working on a collage while I watched the Duke v. UNC game. I needed some supplies, so I headed out to Kmart. 10 minutes later I had what I needed and was back in the neighborhood (you can't beat the convenience of the suburban sprawl).

As I pulled in the driveway, I decided to park on the left side of the driveway, rather than the right side where my truck had sat since I arrived. This was my attempt to mix things up a bit, you know, give our driveway life a little variety, and keep the nosy neighbors entertained. After all, my truck hadn't moved since i returned the Uhaul trailer last Friday, so I'm sure the concerned folks on the neighborhood homeowners association board were wondering what kind of unemployed bum had domiciled in their quaint little Floridian enclave. This parking job was also my subtle way of signaling to Brien (he would notice when he returned from practice) that I had weaned myself from his and Jamie's geographic care and had courageously braved the roads of Coral Springs on my own. Without a map. As my truck rumbled into the driveway, I was glad my dual exhaust was so loud - perhaps the noise would bring someone to their window, and my plan would be noticed instantly. This was most excellent.

When I got to the front door I fumbled in the dark for my house key, but even once I found it I was having some difficulty getting it to fit in the keyhole. Where was the light when you needed it? Then I remembered - I had specifically left the light by the front door on when I left for Kmart. It was off. Somebody was in our house.

I quickly stepped back, surveyed the situation, and then decided to take a peek in the window to see if I could see anybody. This proved difficult as the lights inside the house were off as well. My nose was pressed hard to the glass and I cupped my hands around my eyes, but I couldn't make out anything inside. Suddenly, I realized that I didn't remember there being a window next to our front door, and as I quickly whirled around I noticed that the dying palm tree that Brien and I always laughed at was absent from next to the walkway.

I was at the wrong house. I darted back to the driveway, glanced around and saw the familiar front door of MY house - one driveway down the road. I ran to get in my truck, slipped and fell into the garage door. The noise reverberated off the concrete and echoed back from the house across the street. Surely everyone in the neighorhood was watching. My truck rumbled as I turned the ignition - why was it so STINKIN loud?!

Fairway View is shaped like a "q". we live on the straight drive just below where the "circle" connects to the "stem." I drove around the circle, hoping that somehow that would divert any observers' attention. I'll never know if this plan worked. Finally I pulled back into the driveway of our house.

I parked on the left side, but my enthusiasm had been curbed. So much for being ready to drive on my own in coral springs. Perhaps I need a few more weeks of practice.