Relentless happiness

So, I was out picking stuff up for the cocktail party we're having for Robert's bridge group Tuesday -- about 50, I think -- and my stops were, in order:

Gordon Foods, Albertson's, Publix, the Restaurant Store, Fausto's on Fleming, Fausto's on White. . . .

Busy. Except that I had a flat tire in the Albertson's parking lot. So I went into a barber shop (not mine; it's in Searstown), called triple A, waited for the nice man with the heavy equipment. I was a little crestfallen that I didn't have the camera with me, because this was a superb example of the intersection of flatness and tire.

And by the time I got to White Street, because the Fleming store didn't have the dates I needed, I was a little frazzled.

Jimmy was at the cash register, and of course smiled and asked how I was. A little tired, I said, and mentioned the flat tire.

On your bike?, he asked.

No, the car.

Well, I bet you had a spare, he said and gave me a great big grin.

You're relentless, I told him, and thanked him for making me laugh, and he laughed, too.