Being a Regular Person Part 2

Last week, I received a mailing saying I had to take my car in for an emission test.  Doing that task reminded me what happened the last time I went for an emission test on the day after Thanksgiving.  Read the story from November 27, 2009 below.

Being a Regular Person

I have often been accused of being an elitist snob. I think I have been burdened with an unfair characterization of my life and that depiction has come about because I do not take public transportation, wait in line, go food shopping, or get my own gas.  The exclusion of those activities from my life should not make me a snob; but rather, it should describe someone who is discriminating in the use of her time.

I am uncomfortable being home when the housekeeper is there.  It makes me feel lazy to watch someone perform menial tasks that I am physically capable of handling myself. I have the competence to clean my own residence; but certain duties like polishing the marble floors and cleaning the bathrooms are best left to a professional.  When Souhey arrives, I always leave. (I am not even sure if Souhey is her name, but that is how I refer to her to myself.  I never call her by name to her face.)

On Black Friday, when Souhey showed up, I had no business appointments to attend to, so I had scheduled doing some “regular people” tasks.  My car needed gas and an emissions test, and I required a new glass shelf for one of my bathrooms.  Now, these are all seemingly very easy assignments that anyone could accomplish.  Raoul, my handyman, had offered to buy the shelf, but I said I would take care of it myself.  How hard could it be to buy a glass shelf?

Being a geographically challenged person who can make no sense from even mapquest.com, I asked my doorman Ernie Banks how to get to Webster Avenue, where the Illinois Emissions Testing facility was located.  Ernie’s first response was to laugh and offer to take my car to get it tested as he had done in the past.  I assured him that while I was grateful for his offer, I wanted to do this on my own.  Ernie easily explained how to get to 1850 W. Webster from my location on Michigan Avenue.  Very simple, I thought.

On the way to the facility, I saw a gas station.  Because I drive my car so infrequently I generally only need gas about once a month.  I usually “trick” my imaginary big brother David into filling the tank for me, but since I thought David was out of town for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, I was going to do it myself.  I pulled into the gas station, turned the car off and then could not figure out how to open the gas tank.  I called Jaguar service and they told me where the lever was.  How simple!  I swiped my credit card and the monitor popped up with the words, “Debit? Y/N?”.  I kept pressing the NO button and nothing happened.  I went into the station and paid the cashier directly.  When I got back to my car, there was a “helpful,” but scary looking man standing next to the pump holding the nozzle who said he would fill my tank.  I felt I had no choice but to let him to do the job and I tipped him $5.00.  A snob would not have done that!  A gold star for me!

I drove off and kept driving and driving and could not find Elston, the street that I was supposed to turn right on.  I called Ernie Banks, the doorman, who reminded me that I was supposed to turn on Webster, not Elston, and that was why I was lost.  I turned around, drove a while longer, and meandered through a lovely neighborhood with people walking dogs and I even passed Oz Park; a location that I had heard of and had never been to before.  It was like an out of state adventure!

 I finally located Webster, turned west, and arrived at the testing facility.  The electronic sign in front indicated only a five minute wait.  How wonderful!  I pulled up to the closed garage doors and waited for one of them to open.  Nothing was happening.  I called the phone number on the test papers and got a recorded voice asking me which facility I was inquiring about.  I said, “Webster.”  The voice replied, “Napperville,” and proceeded to tell me that there was only a five minute wait at the Napperville facility.  How lovely for people in Napperville.  I called again, and said, “Webster,” the voice replied, “East St. Louis,” which also only had a five minute wait.  Frustrated, I looked at the papers, hoping to find a different phone number to call and noticed that testing facilities were closed on state holidays.  Who knew the Friday after Thanksgiving was a state holiday?  Why didn’t the recording tell me that instead of “five minute wait?” (On Monday, I will call the Illinois EPA office to complain about the stupid recording!  You can bet on that!)

I still needed to buy the glass shelf for the bathroom, so I called Ernie Banks once again and asked for directions to get to Home Depot.  I had never been to a Home Depot, but I get their flyers all the time and they are supposed to sell everything a person needs for the home. It seemed like a logical place to go.  Well, Home Depot does not sell glass shelves for bathrooms.  By the size of the store, they sell everything else I might need for my home, but not glass shelves.  Incredible!

I called my imaginary big brother David to complain that he was out of town and that I was forced to get gas and shop by myself and it turns out he had not gone out of town after all – so we are having dinner tonight.  David directed me to an Ace Hardware store to locate a glass shelf.  I doubt if it is necessary for me to tell you that they did not have the shelf.  They suggested I go to Home Depot.

So I am now home two hours later and did not get the emissions test or buy a glass shelf.  Ernie will take the car next week for me to get the test and I will order the shelf on the Internet. Okay, I admit it.  I am an elitist snob.  No more “simple” tasks for me.  They are just too hard!