Flashback

Long, largely pointless entry to follow.  But at least I'm writing! 


I had a run-in with the law in January.  I had gone to the movies with a friend.  I got to the movie and looked for my wallet, and realized I had forgotten it at home.  I had my bigger wallet, which contains random stuff I rarely use (my bar card, my insurance card, my ATM card, a Sears card and a credit card I don't like).  So I was able to pay for the movie.  After the movie ended, my friend and I chatted for a few minutes and I went to my car because I was supposed to go to the airport to pick up my husband from a visit with his parents.  I should have been fine on time (airport is about 20 minutes away), but when I got to my car, my husband texted me -- "Surprise!  We landed 25 minutes early!" 


So instead of getting there right around the time he landed, he was going to have to wait.  Incidentally, this was day two of round one of the travel ban, so there were hundreds of protestors at the airport here in light of the detainees.  My husband doesn't like being around demonstrations like that, particularly when he's unarmed (as he is about 90% of the time when flying), both because of a fear of violence breaking out around him, and because of a fear of repercussions at work if someone thought he was a protestor or something like that (his supervisors are largely what you'd expect in Texas criminal justice...). 


So I got on the highway, and it was pretty empty.  I got in the express lanes, which have very few entrances and exits, and at this time on this day, even fewer cars.  I maybe passed 4 cars in 10 miles?  The speed limit was 75 and I was probably driving about 90. 

Then the express lanes ended.  Speed limit drops to 65 or 70 I think.  I merged in and there was more traffic, but still not too much.  I was sailing right along until I got pulled over.  Yow.  The first thing the officer said to me:  "I've been out here all day, and you get the prize for being the first car over 90!"  I was horrified, and then even more horrified to have to say, actually, I don't have my driver's license with me -- I do have my insurance card and multiple "other cards" in my name, and I know my DL number, but uh, nothing with my photo and name. 


Shiitake! 

Since then, I've tried to be better about carrying my license when I'm driving.  I've also obviously tried to be more careful about my speed.


I'm least likely to have my license with me when I'm going to I work out, since I don't need a credit card or ID or anything, and it's such a pain to put it in the trunk before I leave the house (my husband has trained me well not to put something in my trunk after I park, and never to leave something of value in the car).  So anyway, this week, I went into my trunk to get my wallet so that I could then drive somewhere and use a credit card but not take my whole purse with me. 


I reached into my purse for my wallet and came out with (clean) underwear.  It was like a flashback to single life especially if I'd been particularly promiscuous (I was definitely more of a serial monogamist, but yeah, I'm sure I still had underwear in my purse on some random occasion). 

So last week I had my most feared commuting crisis.  I ran to work as usual and rode the elevator to my office as usual.  When I got to my office, I checked my email, filled my water bottle, and got my stuff to take to the locker room:  my bag that lives at work (makeup, deo, hair stuff, flip flops), and the contents of the garment bag I'd brought from home for the week (outfit, shoes, underwear, jewelry).  It seemed to all be there, so I went down to the locker room.  Showered, dried my hair, and started to get dressed.


Shiitake.


No underwear.  I sent a text to the only person in the office I thought I could ask to look for clean underwear in my office (my accounting buddy), but she wasn't in for the day yet.  I pondered my options:


1.  Text my coworker.  She has kids, she'd probably have no objection to handling a colleague's clean underwear, but yeah, that just didn't feel right. 


2.  Wait in the locker room, half dressed, until my accounting buddy came in for the day.


3.  Go commando up to the office and search the bottom of my garment bag myself. 


I sat around in the locker room half dressed and in a towel for about 10 minutes.  A few more texts and I realized my accounting buddy wasn't even close.  I was leaning toward option 3, and I started packing up my workout clothes, when I suddenly realized that in an outer pocket of my bag that lives at work, there was clean underwear for just such an emergency! 


It was a pair I hate (which is why they stay at work) (much like the hideous black pumps that live under my desk for the commuting emergency I've encountered a few times -- no dress shoes).  But clean underwear nonetheless! 


I got dressed and went back to my office.  Sure enough, my packing system had not broken down, I'd brought clean underwear, they were just overlooked in the garment bag.  So I put the clean good underwear in my bag that lives at work until I could wash and replace with the pair I was wearing that I hated.  I washed the hated pair and put them in my purse to execute the swap -- and then apparently forgot. 


I'm just kind of glad it's austerity measures and I'm not pulling out my wallet in front of anyone with any frequency -- I can imagine some acquaintances would have been concerned about the state of my marriage if they'd seen me carrying underwear around...