V-Day

I look at Valentine's Day much like your company Christmas Party. Your best-case scenario is that you keep your job. One slip, you're toast.

I was driving to work this morning and thought I'd buy a little extra insurance by calling her and wishing a very enjoyable Valentines Day from the start. She seldom answers her office phone, so I called the cell.

"I'm calling to wish you a wonderful day."

"Do you know where I am?" Who am I, Kreskin? She sounded a little irritated.

"Let's see. Cincinnati doesn't have an operating subway station, so I'm guessing the echo means you're in the john."

"Ladies room."

"Whatever."

I'm driving on a main artery at a decent clip. About three cars up, someone decides they can make it from a side street to the other side of the road. About two thirds of the way across our lane, the driver perceives the error in the calculation and freezes; stops right in the lane. This isn't helping.

Brake lights flare and hoods dive. I reflexively hit the brake and crank the wheel to pull a bootlegger turn. Except, this hasn't worked since about 2003. That's about the time my cars starting having the I'm-smarter-than-you automated overrides that pretty much prevent you from climbing icy hills, hard braking or other desirable moves. The brakes go into their frantic chattering and I have no choice but to cut the wheel back and go off the road.

"What was that?!" I tell her. "Well that would've been one heck of a note. You call, I hear you, then a crash and then dead air."

Think that would've ruined my day, too.

Maybe I can make up ground at work. I have pizza brought in for everyone for lunch. My treat.

"Don't you know we're on diets? Why are most of them meat topping? Didn't you send out for drinks? Do we have to use our own money in the pop machine?"

I'll stop on the way home and buy the cat a can of tuna. He'll appreciate it.