Adulthood brings about interesting days chocked full of challenges. These times require a certain finesse, hours devoted to nothing more than feigning enthusiasm over things sparsely speckled with such lackluster minutes. The brain seemingly converts to autopilot until that rare occasion where reality is so odd that fiction becomes preferred. Similar to childlike play with the addition of consequences, public opinion, prolonged head shaking, side-eyeing, and mouth gaping.
The weather was already making headlines and ruining plans, so it could be the barometric pressure that promoted a wrinkle in time experienced last Tuesday. The river was churning, dark clouds looming, and crowds moving in an orchestrated symphony, setting the stage for a calamity of characters.
My involvement began with a familiar afternoon craving for chocolate.
Because I live and work in this most beautiful fishbowl, a disclaimer is an excellent idea before attempting to recount the micro catastrophes, indiscernible conversations, and the particularly cluttered corners of humanity. My account may be vastly different than many other passers-by matter of fact; it would not be shocking if all versions were vastly different. Our brains can only absorb so much weirdness before smoothing the edges, blurring the lines, and blanketing us from the cold air of absurdity.
Omitting names, verbiage, and titles will preclude my banishment from the fishbowl I love dearly. Shortening the microcosm of mayhem is the only way to fit the restraints of my column. When time allows me to write a book, this day will enjoy far more explanation, more accuracy, and less concern over protecting the not so innocent.
It began with a miscalculation of the actual girth of a vehicle and possibly ill-advised midday use of vegetation. Any story that starts that way deserves at least a chapter; however, I proceed with focus and caution.
Most business owners are experts in ignoring snippets of weirdness on most occasions. However, this was an exception. Fear of absolute failure to communicate the whirlwind of events without pages allotted to detail, I will hit the high points.
Proper use of vegetation is subjective; I prefer midday greens in a salad, but who am I to judge? On most days, I am fully aware of the girth of my vehicle; however, in times of distress, panic, and complete avoidance, I too have tapped a tree, bush, or unreturned grocery cart. As of today, I have not hit a local business after eating a salad. I am sure it is as common as a cold, but it has eluded me so far.
In my opinion, the not so gentle rattling of a building was the lid to Pandora’s box; once opened, all hell broke loose. Being just steps from this fast-moving train wreck of humanity, determining which catastrophe to assist, watch and donate brain cells to understanding was an enormous chore.
One moment I was fearful of becoming a hood ornament, and the next led to an emotion not yet defined. A car hit a building; a crowd moved so quickly that a man in a wheelchair ran over a woman leaving her face down, steps from a running car temporarily attached to the sweetest building downtown. It was a lot to absorb.
Nurses, business owners, and strangers leapt into action to balance the bizarre with bravery. Unfortunately, the first concern was the woman who took the brunt of a fearful crowd frantically trying to escape the same fate as the nearby building. She was cared for by off-duty nurses and kind strangers in a split second.
Knowing better than to be in the way, I contributed by holding a stroller with a Shitzu, unaffected and unimpressed by the unfolding circus. In a rush, I had failed to realize I was not shielding a toddler from harsh images; I was talking calmly to a Shitzu. I am confident that Shitzu’s mental well-being is perfectly intact due to my efforts.
While holding on to the stroller carrying the only calm being within yards, other unfortunate witnesses ran to encourage the driver of the car ever so gently stuck to the building to turn it off rather than continue moving the immovable and terrifying those offering care to the injured.
What may seem like an eternity was likely only minutes. The gamut of human emotion, differing responses to stress, and perception of the catalyst were as individual as the facial expressions changing by the minute.
Always trying to find the lesson, I offer these few tips.
Don’t enter an alley you can’t properly exit.
No matter how hard you press the gas, buildings won’t move.
When blessed with luck rarely given to most, don’t push it with the desire to save half-eaten chicken nuggets from a vehicle in the process of being towed.
Wheelchairs are vehicles in their own right and can run over pedestrians.
When chaos ensues, find the nearest Shitzu; they are remarkably calm creatures.
Lastly, shop small. You never know what adventure awaits.
Cherimie Crane Weatherford is the owner/founder of SugarBelle, a long-time real estate broker and a lover of the obscurities of southern culture. To contact her with praise and adoration, email CCWIslandNews@gmail.com. To complain, call your local representative.
