Tacos, Trolleys and a Summer Misadventure

Good Thing: There was going to be a little street fair downtown. Nothing ever happens in this town, so it sounded like a wonderful treat.

Bad Thing: It was today, Saturday, when there’s only one bus and it’s on a very strange, limited schedule. I decided to walk my daughter Rose downtown with me.

Good Thing: We took the lovely, scenic shortcut, a set of concrete steps right down the weird cliff at the end of my neighborhood. It was a hot, sunny day. The cicadas were everywhere, singing their song. There were wild black raspberries and mulberries just off the path, and they were delicious. A mile through the woods is good for the soul, even if the woods are smack in the middle of a dilapidated steel mill town.

Bad thing: There was also quite a bit of poison ivy near the blackberries, and now I’ve got itchies on my feet. Also, I forgot the sunscreen so I’m a pleasant shade of tomato on the tops of my arms, and the usual marble pallor on the backs. And then it got way hotter than the forecast said.

Good Thing: The fair was wonderful. Simply wonderful. There was a cruise-in with many interesting old cars, there was a rickety “train” pulled by a tractor, there was live music. There were free balloons, and free second balloons for children who accidentally let go of their first ones. There were alarming life sized cutouts of Dean Martin. There was even a taco truck. Thanks to a present from a friend I had some cash, enough for a meal and a souvenir. The tacos smelled heavenly. I was sure they’d be in a hard corn shell, which is safe for my daughter’s and my allergies. They had a picture of a hard corn shell on their truck, for crying out loud. And they came with a beverage, which I was desperate for. I ordered tacos and a bottle of water. I happily took the warm, fragrant foil package and the cold drink to the shade.

Bad Thing: I opened the foil and found that the tacos were in flour tortillas, made of wheat. I couldn’t even touch them. Rose was so disappointed she poured the drink over the tacos, leaving me with only one gulp.

Good Thing: It was time for the trolley tour. There was a bus all decked out like an old-fashioned trolley that was taking people on a tour of the town’s murals. I quickly got in line, thinking it would be nice to rest in the air conditioning of the trolley bus. I sat Rose next to me on the elegant wooden seats.

Bad Thing: I realized as the bus pulled away that there was no air conditioning. We were riding in an oven.

Good Thing: The trolley took a scheduled stop near the tiny Historical Museum, several blocks from the fair, which I’d never seen open before. I thought I could recover from my increasing dizziness and heat exhaustion by ducking into the museum’s air conditioning. Rose and I got off the trolley.

Bad Thing: The flippin’ museum was not air conditioned. It was also an oven. I told Rose we just had to find a place to cool off because I felt faint. But, of course, we were now on the other side of town in an historic residential neighborhood full of stately Victorian houses which, even if I’d broken into one to lie down, didn’t have air conditioning. Rose and I trekked for about four blocks in the blinding sun. I would have burst into tears if I hadn’t been so dehydrated, not to mention hungry and still craving tacos.

“This is certainly a misadventure!” I said to Rose.

“What’s a misadventure?” asked Rose, who likes big words.

“It’s… well, it’s when you meant to have one adventure, but things go wrong and you have a different adventure.”

Good Thing: Finally, finally, we found the sole building on that long street that had air conditioning and was open to loiterers on a Saturday. I rested on a chair in the pharmacy waiting area of Rite Aid until my legs felt like they would work again. I counted out the cash I’d meant to spend on a souvenir. There was enough for water and a bag of discounted plastic toy fish for Rose. There was even enough for a carton of rice from the extremely cheap Chinese joint across the alley from the Rite Aid– the literal hole in the wall with one table and a few plastic lawn chairs; the one that advertises “Philly Beef Egg Rolls” on a handwritten tagboard sign. It makes excellent rice.

Even Better Thing: As we got out of the Chinese joint, I saw the rare, legendary weekend bus looming up the street, shimmering like a mirage, on its last run of the day. I couldn’t believe my luck. Rose and I jaywalked, caught the bus, and rode home. I enjoyed my rice hovering near the air conditioner unit like Descartes hovering over his hot stove. Rose caught plastic fish in the bathtub for the rest of the afternoon.

Life never goes the way you thought, which means everything is really a misadventure. Fortunately, everything is also grace.

(Image via pixabay)