Key Issues

ANS elections were this week. Everyone was super pumped and we were going to have record attendance and a new era would be ushered in and we'd all laugh and high five and eat eight boxes of pizza. Eight boxes of pizza that, as mentioned earlier, I am in charge of picking up. Eight boxes of pizza that I am in charge of bringing to the meeting. Eight boxes of pizza that I locked in my car along with my keys, phone, wallet, and backpack while parked at a failed meter.

Long story short, I Pedro-ran* around a bit until I found the first person I knew (who just so happened to be my EL dad - FLO's fo lyfe). He let me borrow his phone and call AAA and talk to Alvin. The conversation opened like this:
Alvin: "Hello there, thank you for calling Triple A, what can I help you with today?"
Me: "I locked my keys in my car!"
Alvin: "Well that's not good!"
Then Alvin proceeded to take down my information and process the call and gave me instructions to stay with my car until someone arrived. Sure enough, twenty minutes later Ernest came along to pop the lock. One problem: he couldn't see the lock. Eight boxes of pizza had fogged up the windows like a Ford on Lookout Mountain in any 1950's movie. Ernest repeatedly remarked, "Ooh, this is going to be a good one. A funny one. A funny good one" while I told him I was glad to be some entertainment for his day. He's such a pro that it didn't take long to open the car and rescue my belongings. Then I gave him a slice of pepperoni pizza since I didn't have chicken, which would have been his first choice. As a parting remark after checking my ID, he asked if I was a Cowboy's fan, shook his head at my answer, and told me he was a Giants fan. I told him I was glad he was able to put aside our differences long enough to unlock my car. And I got to walk into a room of hungry nuclear engineers 30 minutes after they thought they would be getting eight boxes of pizza, bearing the good news that my mistake had been remedied. It ended up being a terrible situation that went terribly well.

Just your average day in the life of Molly Cook.

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