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Just When You Think It Can't Get Any Worse...

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JUST WHEN YOU THINK IT CAN’T GET ANY WORSE…. One weekend late in the summer of 1980, my husband and I decided to take in a double feature at the local drive-in theatre on the outskirts of the city. It was cheap entertainment, which was important since as newlyweds we didn't have much money. We packed up my seven-year-old son along with his pillow and blanket, picked up my brother-in-law who was also joining us and off we went. The Odeon opened in 1964 and has a capacity for almost a thousand cars. It almost met its demise a few years ago, but a petition convinced the theatre owner to keep it open. Nowadays, drive-in theatres have advanced technology where all you do is tune your car radio to a certain station to get the necessary soundtrack. Back then, we parked next to a post that had a removable, tinny sounding speaker that was affixed to your car window with a hook mechanism. Being a weekend, there were many families there that night, as well as young dating couples. Children played in a centrally located playground while parents lined up at the concession stand for popcorn and soft drinks. Young adults switched cars to chat with friends. A lot of hustle-bustle and people watching was going on. I always remember the sun setting just as the first feature was about to begin. Everyone scurried to their vehicles, settling in for the evening’s entertainment. The movies ended in the wee hours of the morning, my son asleep in a tumble of blankets and the rest of us yawning. My husband, always in a hurry to beat the traffic, pulled out of the parking spot before I had a chance to put the speaker back in its post. CRASH! The force of the moving car, with speaker still connected, smashed the window into millions of pieces, glass shards covering my lap. In horrified silence I stared at the mess, afraid to move in case I was injured. My husband began to lament, "Oh no! My car! My car!" I thought his first concern would have been for his wife, who was swathed in sharp glass. I was not impressed when I saw where his priorities lay. Very slowly I opened the car door, and very carefully I got out and let the accumulated glass fall where it may. There was glass stuck to my clothes, glass in the car, even in my purse. Miraculously, I did not have one cut. We cleaned up the glass as best we could while my annoyance factor escalated. Although it was the end of summer, the night was cool. My son and brother-in-law huddled in the back seat under blankets. Driving a distance of several miles without a window was not fun, and I sat in stony silence, fuming, as the wind blew my hair every-which way. The worst wasn't over yet. As we hurried to get home, a very unpleasant and pungent scent assailed our nostrils. I knew what that smell was. Skunk! The scent permeated everywhere. This added insult to injury as not only were we cold and shivering, facing the expense of a new car window, but now there was a skunk odor following us. This was just too much for me. I started to giggle, and the giggles turned to chortles and then guffaws. Everyone joined in and we laughed until we had tears streaming down our faces. Although we were cold and stinky, for some strange reason all I could think about was the silly jumping candy and dancing hotdog commercials in-between features. That made us laugh even more. Who would have thought that this incident has become a part of our family history. When we tell this story now, we always end it by saying it was the evening that turned out to be a real stinker in more ways than one! Maria Harden (C) 2007