I'm not a religious or superstitious man, but I honestly believe that your thoughts and deeds have consequences. The example that comes to mind particularly poignantly today involves a time that I wasn't very nice, and teased a friend.
That friend was Natasha, and she had a collapsible cart that she used to use to go and get her groceries. This made perfect sense, since she was living a fair distance from a grocery store and she didn’t have a car because she lived downtown. We knew that this bugged her a bit though, because Tash is cool, and hauling one of those grocery carts around is not cool. I used to bug her and say she should put racing stripes and streamers on it to be cooler, but I admit, I wasn’t trying to be helpful, I was trying to tease her a little. Over the years since then, Timmi and I took to calling that kind of cart, formerly called a “granny cart” generically, a Tash-cart. I don’t think Tash really minded, but she would have been justified if she bristled a bit.
Fast forward a few years when we moved into our house. The previous owners left a whole bunch of stuff, including our very own Tash-cart. We chuckled a bit at the time, but never used it until one day, right before some people were coming over for a barbecue, I realized I was out of propane. Not having a car myself, I picked up the propane tank and started the 15 minute walk to the Beaver gas station to get some propane (no need to mention the name of the gas station other than because it’s a Beaver gas station, and I am twelve). I was struggling with the tank because it was so awkward and that was when it was empty, and before I got to the end of the street I was dreading the idea of carrying it when it was full — then I remembered the Tash-cart!
I ran back to the shed and got our much-maligned Tash-cart and opened it up. Yep, it was exactly the right size for a propane tank. Getting propane turned out to be a breeze and I started my secret love affair with my Tash-cart. Whenever I needed to get something particularly heavy from the store, Tash-cart. Whenever I was getting something bulky, Tash-cart. I started making up excuses to use it because it really made things so easy. All the time, I was feeling guilty for teasing Natasha because not only was it mean to do at the time but to this day I was still calling all carts of that nature, and my much-loved one in particular, Tash-carts.
Well, today, I got my comeuppance. (As a side note, wow, Firefox 2.0’s spellchecker actually has the word comeuppance in it! As another side note, it does not have the word spellchecker).
We are having some friends over tonight and were going to be laying in some heavy supplies, so I talked Timmi (who has not joined me in the conversion from Tash-cart hater to Tash-cart lover) into taking the Tash-cart with us. That’s when I discovered ….
SOMEONE STOLE MY F—ING TASH-CART!
It was sitting on the porch in our perfectly nice neighbourhood, minding its own business, and now it’s gone!
I’m distraught. I’m upset. My hands are sore because we had to haul a whole bunch of groceries manually. And I want to know … what kind of jerk steals a Tash-cart off someone’s front porch!?!?!
Put out an APB! Call COPS! I will not rest until the Tash-cart thief is brought to justice!
Deep down though, I know this is all my fault because I teased Natasha years ago. I’m sorry, and I’ve learned the error of my ways, but I know that won’t bring my Tash-cart back. Karma, you are a bitch.