…at a nudist resort.
Feve shoots her hand in the air. Looks around. Blinks.
What? You mean I’m the only one?!?!
Heh heh.
*
I had to borrow the manager’s phone to make the call since my cell was locked in the car. With my keys. And with Smotchy’s keys. And Smotchy’s cell phone.
After going through the automated menu (seriously?!), I got through to Officer Friendly whose job it was to provide me Excellent Customer Service in As Quick A Manner As Possible.
“Are you in a safe place, ma’am?”
“Uhmmm… Yes?” (I was actually not so safe. Sunburn, you know. In all the wrong places. And me without my keys to be able to get my sunscreen out of the car.)
“Where are you?”
“I’m at a clothing-optional resort.”
Choking sounds.
“Um, are you okay?”
“Ahem. Yes ma’am.”
“So you’ll send somebody?”
“Yes ma’am, right away.”
*
I’ve never had such a fast response from roadside assistance in my life. 😛
*
I’ve also never seen a man grin quite so wide after being called out in the middle of a flaming hot summer Saturday afternoon to perform a lock-out service. For free. 😀
Always look on the bright side of life…
I am sorry, but this brilliant piece completely cracked me up blossom.
Excellent
Heh heh.
It’s funny in hindsight.
Of course, it was the ‘hind’ sight that put such a huge grin on his face to begin with… (Or to end with, rather.) 😛
Next time you should wear a fashion forward Fanny Pack. You’d be the Belle of the Ball
Packing Fanny Fashion = Baby Got Back? Would that make me a back-packer? 😛
And as for bells and balls…
Oh, the imagination runs wild. 😉
Hey, it’s none of my business about being a Fanny Back Packer. That’s personal information in my book but I’m sure you’ve been the Belle Fantastique of the Best balls
: ) I’m just guessing
Fantastique Fevre. That’s my super secret spy name. In French. 😉
LOL – your alter ego on the Riviera
*giggle* 🙂
Nobody can say I don’t know how to create a memorable moment. 😛
Locking your keys in the car is never funny at the time, although it does feel surreal when you hear the door slam and hear the auto lock function go on and then you see your keys dangling from the ignition.
It is such an ingrained habit for me: exit car, lock doors.
Though typically, of course, I have my keys in my purse and my purse on my person before doing so. Woops! 😛
Never. But here’s something. One predawn morning several years ago I wanted to go out and take a look at the full moon. Didn’t bother to get dressed. In climbing a hill behind the house to get a better look at the moon I slipped on wet grass, came down on large landscaping rocks and cracked two ribs. What an ordeal it was, struggling into pajamas before notifying family members that I needed a ride to the hospital–but it was better than trying to explain why I was outside at that time nude.
The expression ‘ass-over-teakettle’ comes to mind. OUCH!
So much for dancing naked under a full moon. 😉
Thankfully, my husband has grown accustomed to me running about in the buff at all hours. He’s gotten to where he questions why I have my clothes *on* (when I bother to wear them), rather than wondering why I have my clothes *off*. I can’t imagine struggling into my PJ’s after a fall like that. My ribs ache just thinking about it.