by Maureen Kovach
“You can’t make this stuff up.” If your life is anything like mine, you’ve said this dozens of times. Weird things happen every day, every month, every year. Here’s a little gem that happened this morning on my way to work:
The setting: early morning/air temp 17 degrees/wind chill 0
The characters: one retired/not retired English teacher prone to occasional hot flashes
The plot: After checking the weather forecast the previous evening, I had my outfit carefully planned. It was going to be cold. Skinny pants, boots, long sleeve top, and a cozy swing-hem sweater with a cowl neck would keep me warm and comfortable. I donned my knee-length down coat and fur-lined mittens before venturing into the garage and my pre-warmed car. So far, so good.
About halfway to my destination, I felt it-the dreaded hot flash. I don’t experience them very often any more, so it took me by surprise. If you’ve had one yourself, I don’t need to explain the feeling of imminent spontaneous combustion. If you haven’t, there are no words to make you understand. I had to do something. I opened my window about two inches which helped some, but my hair was getting messed up from the high wind, so I decided the sunroof would be perfect. I pressed the control switch and watched the glass slide about three inches. Sweet relief was mine.
About ten minutes later, I pulled into my parking space and pressed the switch to close the sunroof. Click, click, nothing. What the heck? I tried again, and yet again. Finally, I had to leave my car with the sunroof open and the doors locked and head inside. After class, I returned to my car, optimistic that the rest and restart would do the trick and all would be well. Click, click, nothing. Uh-oh. My internal furnace had shut down, and I was feeling the howling cold just the same as all the normal people in town. What could I do?
I drove down the highway at 72-miles per hour with the sunroof open. Wow. By the time I got home, my eyes were watering, and I was eager to get inside and warm up with a steaming bowl of leftover chili.
After my meal, I went back out and tried the switch one more time for the heck of it. Click, click, whirr. Easy as that, it was fixed. I don’t know how or why, but it worked perfectly. That’s all that mattered.
One of the most-asked questions authors get is, “Where do you get your ideas?” The answer is always, “Life.”
You can’t make this stuff up.
Do you have a funny, interesting, or embarrassing story? Please share it in the comments. Who knows? you may see your story come to life in our next book.