The Black Box

One summer, Jenna, my brother S and I went to visit my Mother. Neither of us had thought to bring some “adult beverages”, which was silly when you know that she lived in a dry county. And no this does not mean they have no running water. Mom wanted to go make apple butter out at a country church. Stephen and I smartly divided and conquered. He took mom to make apple butter; I took Jenna to buy wine. We are smart like that.

Jenna and I drove the 10 miles back into Ashland, heading towards the local Brew Thru. (Richmond really needs these, you don't even have to get out of your pjs as you stay in your car!). I may or may not have turned the wrong way onto a one way street. I feel that I may have based on the hand signal the man in the decked out 4 wheeler gave us. No worries, as we found the store and pulled up into the Brew Thru. I rolled down the window and proudly asked for my brother’s favorite wine: Bota Box - Old Vine Zinfandel. I promptly received “that look”. Oh you who are in your pjs, in the rental car, with the 4X5 sheet of metal that is supposed to be attached to the underside of the car in the back seat. Yes you would want a box of wine. The metal sheet is a completely different story.

As he went to get said box of wine, I realized that my purse was in the trunk. I got out in all the magnificent glory of my pjs, and went to the back of the car. Jenna at that point moved over to my side of the car, and started shouting BOY BOY through the window and patting the seat beside her. Good thing I had my keys or she might have tried to bolt with the young man beside her! Jenna then had one of those spectacular learning moments. She found the back window wiper/washer. How did I know this? Because it went off and completely soaked my pj top. So I am standing there with the hatch open, the windshield wipers going, and the water continuing to soak me. Jenna of course is hysterically laughing. At this point, I look like a participant in a wet tshirt contest for saggy old women. I turn to the cashier window, and see the young man laughing so hard that he is holding onto the counter to not fall over. And you know what? I still had to pay for the wine.