a pink quilted dressing gown, nightie, slippers and hair rollers. when i was a teenager, these items together made a great impression on me – one that persists to this day. picture this: 8am on a winter weekday morning, a family at home getting ready for school & work – when suddenly; a knock at the front door, which opens to reveal a middle-aged woman, dressed only in the items mentioned above, nervously clutching her gown closed around her neck.

“hello – may i please use your phone? my car broke down on the motorway, i’ve been walking for about 20 minutes…”

that’s kinda how life goes, isn’t it? if i may borrow a line: “no one expects the spanish inquisition.”

i’m certain that if this woman had any inkling that her car might break down after dropping her son off at work that morning, she would probably have taken the time to shower, do her hair, dress in warm clothes, and wear shoes suitable for walking a couple of kilometres (in full view of hundreds of rush-hour commuters). but, she didn’t. she took her car for granted and trusted it to keep her state of undress a secret; which is actually pretty shaky ground, because it’s doubtful the car was even aware of its extra responsibility that day.

however, i’m just as certain that from that day forward, her morning routine grew to include “get dressed, take hair out of rollers”… just in case. and why am i so certain? because from that day to this i have never left the house myself without making sure that i won’t look like an escaped mental patient if i have to get out of my own car. i just remember that beyond-embarassed look on her hair-rollered face and her wet muddy slippers below her nightdress, and suddenly find extra motivation to get ready properly.

so i just want to take the time to say thank you, anonymous 1980s doorstep lady, for that vivid and compelling demonstration – you probably saved me from a similar fate!

in other news lol, here’s a totally unrelated photo from last weekend 🙂