Happy Dia de los Muertos. This is the story of the flying tortilla.
A few years ago, after I got my car, I got one of those sun visor things. You know the kind, they are designed to (sort of) fit your car, and they fold up and stuff in the back seat when you aren’t using them? They used to come in cardboard-my old Honda had one of those. But, since I got the new car, and the old visor didn’t really fit (not to mention it was like 15 years old) I decided I would splurge and get myself a new sun visor (to go with the new car.) My little plot was all well and good, until I found myself at Wal-Mart, in the auto accessory department, picking up one of those fancy, newfangled fabric ones that come in two pieces. Fitted for the specific brand of car that you have, the fabric ones don’t fold as easily as the “old skool” cardboard ones, rather they sort of “roll up.” They are so difficult to fold back up again, in fact, that they come with instructions.
The instructions read, “fold in half, like a tortilla, twist, and then secure with elastic string.” Yeah, yeah, this sound easy enough. The trouble is, most people, when stuck at Wal-Mart near closing time, don’t really know how a tortilla folds. Some people use a fork to eat tortillas. Am I supposed to use a fork to tie up my new sun visor? As luck would have it, living in Texas for so long, I do know how to eat tortillas (even after closing time at Wal-Mart, mind you) and I know how they fold. Lucky me, I was able to get the newfangled sun visor “thingie” (to use a technical “car/gear head term” there on you) to fold and be on my way.
Fast forward a few years and a few scortching hot Texas summers later. The sun visor has started to stretch, to give a bit. The fabric has lost a bit of its old bounce, not to mention the fact that the little elastic string, the string you’re supposed to use to secure the “rolled up tortilla-like sun visor thingie” has started to give. Yes, it’s true, now my sun visor no longer stays so neatly folded up. To make matters worse, it’s one of those that sort of “snaps” when you open it. (I’m sure you know the kind.)
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s going to happen next in this little tale of woe. The other day, driving around, I’ve got the dead Stig (loaner helmet for Halloween costume) on the front seat, next to me (Oh, Stiggy! Whoever you are…marry me, I’m yours!) and the tortilla rolling around in the back. I started to go faster, hit the hills, the Stiggy starts to tilt over (he’s quite wobbly, in fact, without legs or, you know, that pesky “torso” bit to keep him upright) and the tortilla starts to roll from side to side in the back. The dead Stig kept tilting, the car kept going faster until, suddenly, “snap,” the flying tortilla opened, hitting me in the back of the head. Picture this, I’m going down Highway 183, dead Stig next to me, on the front seat, tortilla surf boarding me in the back of the head from the backseat. So, I’m wiggling, twisting, and trying to fend off the great flying tortilla with one hand, all the while keeping Stiggy (poor, poor Stiggy) upright with the other. (No wonder he won’t marry me, he’s afriad I’ll decapate him.)
All of this brings me to the morale of this story: I wonder if Stiggy likes tacos? (I could sure go for a taco right about now. ‘Course, I won’t be able to drive there-not without ducking and avoiding the great flying tortilla, mind you, but a taco would sure be great right about now.)
Tabasco Top Gear, anyone? (Oh, where would NaBloPoMo be if we had to walk?)
Until next time (tomorrow, I hope….)