Over the past few years, I’ve had a number of mishaps when traveling.
I was starting to think that it was me.
Maybe it isn’t.
Pam left Friday morning to drive to Evansville to visit the grandkids, Beth, and Beckie.
She called me around 1:30. The car had died just outside Indianapolis and her AAA card was at home.
Pam sounded pretty upset and in turn I was getting upset because I wasn’t in a position to help her.
I was at work and could get her card fairly quickly but then what? I was still 3 hours away.
Pam suggested that I use my phone to take a picture of the card and then message it to her phone.
I did that and the AAA guy accepted the picture of the card.
He then said that the air compressor or fritzemjammer or something needed to be replaced.
He took Pam and the car to a dealership where they said that they should be able to fix it on Monday.
Pam then rented a car to continue her trip.
She called me and sounded a lot less falling-aparty than earlier. In fact, she sounded pretty happy with the way that things had worked out and was looking forward to the visit.
I had always thought that the common denominator to the shitty things that happened to me when traveling was me.
But Pam was always there when these things happened.
Maybe it’s Pam’s curse and I’ve just been collateral damage.