Daisy Mae's Subs N' Stuff

Across the road from the Pump N' Go there's a little sandwich shop, right in the center of town, a rinky-dink little place with stained carpet and plastic flower decorations. They have the best food in town. I don't get a chance to eat there very often, they close early and they don't take debit cards (I never carry cash.)

Wednesday morning I decided I wanted something from Daisy Mae's Subs N' Stuff for lunch so, being the awesomest mom in the word and the bestest daughter that ever walked the earth, I decided to pick up lunch for all three of us. I called The Amazon at the Pump N' Go, asking her to find out what her nana wanted, call it all in and I'd pick it up at noon.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right?

I left the office at noon, bopped down the hill and around the corner to the ATM and withdrew $40. I knew sandwiches for the three of us would probably be around $20 (another reason I don't eat there much, it's good but they're a little high) and I owed Thelma $4 for a cake for Tiny's going away lunch. I stuck the cash in my hoodie pocket as I waved to some of the guys from the plant who were inside cashing their checks, then climbed back in Jolene to go pick up lunch.

Daisy Mae's daughter was working the counter down at the sandwich shop and although I'd never set foot in the place before in my life, she knew exactly who I was and what I was picking up.

It's a small town thing and... it's a little creepy.

The total was $19.58, I handed her a $20, collected my little bag of food and after a little small talk, hopped back in Jolene to leave.

I put the truck in reverse and started backing out. What happened after that is sort of a blur, the only details I can be absolutely sure of are:

1. There was a very loud crunching sound.
2. When I put the truck back in drive to pull up and see if I'd hit something, the very loud crunching sound repeated itself.
3. A lady walking across the parking lot to her car found Jesus.
4. I may or may not have nearly soiled my granny panties
5. The very large, wooden sandwich shop sign that had, until moments before, sat by the side of the road, surrounded by freshly planted pansies was now kindling. I don't even want to talk about what happened to the pansies.

By now, all the guys who had been at the bank cashing their checks were grabbing lunch over at the Hillbilly Grocery across the street or buying smokes from T.A. at the Pump N' Go.

Could this be more embarrassing?

Once I shook off the fog created by the realization of what had just happened, I went back inside the shop and told Daisy Mae's daughter that I was sorry but I'd just crushed their sign.

"Oh that's alright. It was ugly anyway," she said.

"Oh no.. let me give you my phone number, you just call me when you find out how much it's going to cost to fix."

"No no no, don't worry about it," she added, "it's okay. You didn't get hurt did you?"

Bless her heart. I wanted to hug her, but I feared she might be acting kindly only because she heard I was that batshit crazy chick who lived in that trailer on the edge of town that wreaked of sewage and sounded like there were 500 pit bulls locked inside whenever someone knocked on the door.

Not that I've got a complex or anything.

I stopped at the station and told T.A., who informed we would now have to change our names and move to another state, before heading home, tossing Ma's sandwich in her general direction and hiding in my bedroom for the remainder of my lunch hour.

I was able to forget my trauma long enough to enjoy the sandwich. It was mighty tasty.

After emailing a friend and whining like a big baby, I felt a little better. I grabbed my hoodie, my purse and a Pepsi (don't judge, I think a frosty cold Michelob would have been justified, all things considered)  and headed back to the Asylum. As I started out the door, I remembered the money I owed Thelma and checked my pockets.

My $20 was gone.

Now, I don't know about ya'll, but $20 is a pretty big chunk of change for me. I felt sick. I was already running late, so I had no choice but to just forget about it for the moment and get back to the office. I called T.A. from my cubicle, asking her to run back to the bank for me when she got off to cash a check for $10 so I could give Thelma what I owed her.

I felt like the Universe was humping me hard on that Humpday.

Since then, I've found one small scratch on Jolene's tailgate. I can live with that. There's a new sign up at Daisy Mae's Subs N' Stuff. They say her bubbahubby was seen Wednesday afternoon, standing at the side of the road, shaking his head in disbelief, clutching his tape measure . Apparently he'd just built the new sign last weekend after a big storm blew the previous sign across the road. The pansies had only been in the ground since the day before, when Daisy Mae knelt at the curb, lovingly propping the delicate little flowers up so they'd be straight and pretty.

The Amazon called me late yesterday afternoon to tell me she'd found my $20 in the kitchen floor.

I guess you can see why I'm glad this week is about over. It's been one for the record books. I'm looking forward to the weekend.

Here's wishing ya'll a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

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